Chapter Text
They were out of laundry detergent. That was the fact that Alastor realized one perfectly gloomy morning. Sure he had been missing for a few days while he handled his little mishap during the extermination, but he HAD hoped that at least Charlotte would have known better than to neglect tasks as important as restocking. He heaved out a sigh, eye twitching in annoyance as he left the laundry room to inform Charlie of his impromptu supply run.
‘Never mind.’ Alastor thought to himself. You see, right when he finally managed to track down the runaway Princess, Lucifer summoned a fresh bottle of the missing laundry detergent. His ear flicked as he watched the devil hand the bottle to Niffty, who let out a maniacal giggle before scampering away, the aforementioned King of Hell shooting him a smug look. ‘Well fine,’ Alastor huffed softly, his smiling grimace a tad sharper than usual. ‘I suppose he wins this round.’
Where was his paperwork? Alastor glanced into the drawers of his desk again to make sure they hadn’t gotten misplaced. Charlie always made sure to leave his paperwork right where it could be seen, and after a few times of the work being skipped out on, her girlfriend had followed suit. ‘Surely they didn’t forget?’ He scrunched up his nose at the thought ‘no, Charlotte would never. She always keeps others in mind.’ With that, the deer stood and left his study to go ask Charlie.
‘Never mind.’ He caught himself thinking for the second time that week, as he walked into Charlie’s office to find her handing Lucifer the paperwork HE usually handled. He felt a slight sting in his chest as the fallen angel shoved past him with a smirk. “Ah, Al-!” His ear twitched as he heard the princess nearly stutter out his name. “Sorry-! I just got used to having him do the paperwork while you were gone… surely you wouldn’t mind sharing, right? I mean…. Dad needs SOMETHING to do-“ Alastor sighed, cutting off her rambling. “It’s alright, darling. I understand.” Of course he did, she didn’t have a malicious bone in her body and was just trying to do what was right. So why did he still feel… hurt?
He watched in silence as they all giggled and had fun. It was game night, he had realized only a few minutes prior, and yet Charlie hadn’t come up to inform him when it started like she usually did. Granted, he normally wouldn’t join in on the games, preferring to watch the chaos unfold, and yet…. His chest hurt again. This time it was accompanied by a slight sting to his eyes and he realized that he felt… left out. He nearly scoffed at the realization, but he supposed he really had come to enjoy the others company over his time spent at the hotel.
He locked eyes with Lucifer, grin twitching as he braced himself for the smug look that awaited him. Instead, he found surprise and guilt. “A-Alastor!” He heard Charlie’s startled cry. “Apologies for interrupting. Enjoy your games.” He grit out through clenched teeth, only hearing Angel’s “Wow, who crawled up HIS ass this morning?” and the following giggles as he disappeared into a wisp of shadows.
It wasn’t long before he started to notice it in the little, everyday things too. Charlie stopping waiting for him when he went out and returned late at night, group dinners that he was conveniently left out of, Lucifer becoming the go to whenever something needed fixing, the growing, pitying glances the fallen angel had been shooting at him. All the little things began to add up, adding to the burning emotions filling his chest, the sharp sting of tears threatening to fall as he walked in on another group dinner, cooked by Lucifer of course, just another thing he had been replaced in.
He was tired, he just wanted to be included, was there something wrong with him? Maybe if he was better they would want him again? If he behaved, would they invite him? He didn’t want to be alone again. He COULDN’T be alone again.
He tried cooking for them but the food went ignored. Tried to be kinder, more welcoming, but was treated with suspicious glances and cold shoulders. He stopped eating sinner meat, despite how it made the hunger knaw at his stomach, his eternal punishment for his gluttony while topside. When they told him to shut up, he stopped talking altogether. Anything to keep them from leaving him.
Anything.