Our Redemption Arc (Hazbin Hotel Adam x Reader)

Consider yourself grounded

It's not yet light outside, but you're wide awake. No amount of tossing and turning and pleading with yourself puts you back to sleep. So, up you get. You made breakfast. It wasn't very good, despite the good ingredients available. Without a recipe, you're fairly useless in the kitchen, especially without having the coffee to speed you up. They must sell coffee somewhere in heaven...

You decide to go have a look. You have your coat, shoes and cash, and have crossed your fingers hoping that a vendor will sell to you so you're not 'forced' to steal it. Speaking of, Adam won't mind you stepping out for a while, right? You don't have to wait long to get your question answered.

The second your fingertips touch the door handle, an electric shock enormous enough to make your hair stand up and puff into a frizzy ball shoots through your body. You, unsurprisingly, scream at the top of your lungs and collapse. There's only a bit of external damage, any internal damage will heal up inhumanly fast, and, of course, even the worst injury won't kill what's already dead. Hurts like a bitch, though, and you're too dazed to even begin thinking about standing.

As a result of your screaming, Adam bolts out of bed and zips into the room using his wings to speed himself up. He's in panic mode, because the higher-ups are totally gonna kill you both if you die. He looks around frantically, but sighs a breath of relief when he sees you slumped over in front of the door and realises what happened.

"Fuckin' a, Dough. Y'scared the hell outta me..."

You groan and flop onto your back like a suffocating fish. He laughs at you.

"Hey, good morning to you too." He reaches down to grab your arms and lifts you onto your feet, which you cannot stand on independently yet, so he just holds you in place. Your neck won't support your head either, so you end up looking at the opposite side of the room from the opposite way up.

"Ughh..." You're pretty out of it. Your pain tolerance tanked when you got to heaven, which you assume got disposed of alongside your magic and the soul contracts in your possession.

"Huh. Okay, yep... I may have over done it slightly with the, uh.. precautions..." He admits with a less confident chuckle, his brows tilting upwards and his smile becoming lopsided.

He sets a hand between your shoulder blades and an arm behind your thighs to lift you up. He feels a little bad for you, but only because he's such a great person and not because he cares about your well-being. He carries you like a tiny toddler through the apartment and into your room, pushing open the door with his foot so he can continue supporting your body. You, meanwhile, unintentionally play the part perfectly and lean all your weight into him.

"Couldn't have ya runnin' off and blowing something up, y'know?" He explains mainly to himself, rationalising and justifying his error.

He sets you down on the bed so that you're propped up against the headboard and gently lays your legs out in front of you.

"Didn't know how much would stop ya, so... Just guessed..." He smiles cautiously. "You good?"

"Mgh..." No, you're not, but you feel too buzzed, not in the good way, to say that. You do feel strong enough to tilt your head and look over at your hand, which feels like it's on fire right now. The scratches from day one healed almost overnight, but this one looks like it'll take a couple nights at least. Some of your fingers are dusted black and are bright red the rest of the way down.

He follows your gaze, and winces himself when he sees your burn. But, he's been around a long time, so at least he immediately knows what to do to help. He summons a cold, damp cloth and wraps it around your injury without warning, which makes you flinch and badly suppress a wimpish whine that you turn into a more mad-sounding noice once it hits your ears.