Chapter Text
Am I going to die?
A sharp point pierced his arm.
Why didn't that hurt? I'm bleeding. There’s so much blood, and yet I feel nothing.
His vision dulled to a staticy vignette.
My vision…
“Vox!” A faint voice cried from the distance. “Defend yourself! Why are you just sitting there?”
The voice was familiar - fresh and feminine, but frantic. It asked a good question. Why wasn’t he fighting back?
I want this, that’s why I’m not fighting back.
A cold, sharp claw gripped and punctured his screen. His body spasmed as the claw released, shattering more glass as it sliced away. Despite the scattered shards, Vox still felt no pain.
Yes, that must be it. Let them tear me to shreds. It’s what I deserve.
The claw came in for a second strike, and Vox did nothing to prepare for the impact. Instead, he sighed, closed his eyes, and waited for his screen to shatter to a million more pieces. When nothing struck his face, he opened one eye.
Before him, stood a slim woman, with golden locks, and tall, righteous red horns. The source of the voice from before, was unmistakably Lucifer’s daughter.
“That's enough!” She snapped, in the most aggressive voice she could muster, “he’s had enough! He isn't even fighting back!”
Of course she would save me. She thinks I can be redeemed. How foolish.
“After what he did to us? He deserves no such mercy!” An alligator-like sinner shouted from the crowd.
“And you do?” Charlie snarled, “what about you?” She turned to a sinner resembling a shoebill bird. “How about you?” she asked a third.
Murmurs rose from the crowd.
“You're all in Hell for a reason! Until recently, according to Heaven, none of you deserved redemption, but that’s not how we do things around here anymore. Vox has already lost everything, he’s not hurting anyone anymore. No one is laying another hand on him while I'm around.”
Charlie spoke with a confidence and forthrightness that Vox hadn’t heard from her before, and the crowd took her word as law. It wasn’t long before the last errant sinner had fled the alley, leaving just the two of them — Charlie standing tall, and Vox crumpled and small. She retracted her horns, kneeled, and reached out towards him.
She should have let me die.
Tears filled his large red eyes, causing a staticy sizzle. He pulled his knees to his chest, and buried his head in them.
“Take all the time you need, Vox,” she said sweetly, too sweetly. There was no judgment in her voice. Vox would have loathed that voice if he had it left in him to care, but he didn't care anymore. He couldn’t. Everything he had worked for was gone, and he was the architect of its demise.
But take time, he did. Too many tears slipped down his cheeks, and leaked from the cracks in his screen. Static soon turned to a shower of sparks. His body twitched with each shock; he hugged himself tightly, ignoring the wound on his arm, reigniting spurts of blood.
“Um, Vox, please be gentle with yourself. You’re in bad shape. We should really get you to the hotel and get you fixed up.” The smile in her voice was beginning to fade.
“I don’t want to be redeemed,” he said listlessly.
“Well, that's ok!” Her pep returned, “Redemption is a big step, and you might decide it’s not for you, but I want you to have the chance.”
He mumbled something incoherent to both her and himself. The sparks were starting to fuck with his processors. If only he could stop the tears from falling, but his sobs continued uncontrollably.
She should just leave me to my misery. I'm a pathetic cry baby.
“Pardon the intrusion!” Charlie slipped her sleeve under his head and gently dabbed it on his screen. “It's ok to cry, but you gotta wipe some of those tears away, otherwise you'll fry your circuits!”
With his thinking clouded by sparks and tears, he acquiesced to her offer. While part of him wanted to succumb to a million kilowatt shock, there was a chance she would be shocked as well. It wasn't that he cared about her, no, it was just that he wished to make no further impact on the world. He wanted to vanish and not be remembered, at all. And yet, as he accepted her sleeve, his tears slowed.
“See? Isn't that much better?” She sounded so kind. If he were to die, it wouldn’t be so bad if her voice were the last thing he heard.
As he used her sleeve as a handkerchief, some bits of glass got caught in the fabric. He lifted his screen and pushed her arm away. “Sorry about your jacket.” It was the first time he had lifted his head since she had knelt by him. He kept his eyes on the ground; he couldn’t bring himself to look the princess in the face.
“Oh,” she chuckled, “not a problem, I know a great tailor.”
With his eyes still averted, he could feel her looking at him, studying him. He hunched his shoulders and sank further into himself. “Please stop staring,” he said with a thin tremble.
“N-no, I didn't mean to stare! Just trying to figure out how to fix your screen. Do I collect all the shards? Do we get a new glass? Are you even truly made of glass?”
“No one is going to fix me, Princess. Just leave me be, looking like useless junk, because that's what I am!” The hurtful words he spoke about himself started a fresh round of tears. He curled back into a heap of sobs and hoped the princess would finally leave him alone. But she didn’t go, and much to his surprise, she started laughing.
Laughing? Yeah, that's right, that's what he deserved anyway. Fucking perfect. Yet somehow, her laughter didn't sound mocking, it sounded warm and sympathetic.
“I'm sorry for laughing, it’s just Alastor warned me you might say something like that. He really knows you well, doesn't he?”
Vox lifted his head enough to peer out with one broken, watery eye. “Al-astor?”
“Yeah, and, don't tell him I told you this, but-” she glanced around before leaning closer to Vox’s screen, “he sounded worried about you.”
Yeah right, Alastor worried about me? What a joke.
Vox put his head back down. “It’s just another one of his cruel games. Don't believe it for a second, Princess,” he mumbled as a few more sparks dripped from his tearful face.
With his eyes fixed to the floor, Vox couldn’t see what Charlie was planning, all he heard was a defiant little “hmmph,” and the next thing he knew he was pulled to his feet. Shocked by both her audacity and her strength, Vox stood slack jawed and blinking.
“Enough of this, mister. I don't care if you don't want to be redeemed, but I'm not gonna stand by as you wallow and risk electrocuting yourself! Now,” she cleared her throat and straightened her back, “do you know where the other Vees are?”
Vox shook his head. He hadn’t seen them since their falling out before extermination. Damn, he really did fuck up everything with everyone. Even if he never saw them again, he hoped Val and Vel were alright.
“Alright, then you're coming with me. I'm not sure if you realized, but that slash on your arm is from an angelic weapon. If you don't get it treated—” Charlie paused and searched for the words, “stay at the hotel, just for the night, please?”
Vox had been so certain he had wanted to succumb to his injuries, but the thought of his old friends, Val, Vel, and yes, even Alastor, gave him pause. Even if he himself were a waste of air — useless junk — there were people he still cared about. That was enough incentive to at least survive the night. “OK, I'll stay at your hotel tonight.”