Charlie pressed her hand flat against the door, letting out a shuddering breath. Vaggie gently placed a hand on her elbow and Charlie turned to her.
"It doesn't feel real," she whispered. "He can't just be gone."
"I know," Vaggie said softly, trailing her hands down so that they were standing in front of each other, both hands locked together. "It isn't fair. None of this is. But you, we, have to be strong for everyone else." She unraveled her hand and gestured to everyone else in the Hotel, busy with some small task.
Husk was restocking the bar with the help of Lucifer. Alastor was summoning furniture and Niffty was behind him, sweeping the pristine floors. In the corner, Cherri was looking down, her hair hiding her face while Angel spoke to her in soft, low tones. The cannibals had returned to cannibal town and although the lights were bright and the hotel better than ever, it didn't hide the fallen bodies outside, the people they had lost.
Charlie's eyes followed the movement and her shoulders drooped. "I don't know, Vaggie. Is the hotel really all that safe anymore? We don't know if they'll come back and will we be able to hold them off again?"
"Yes," Vaggie said firmly. "We can do it as many times as they want and if I know Lute... they're swallowing their pride right now. They won't be back for a while."
Right. Charlie still couldn't quite wrap her head around the fact that Vaggie was once an exorcist, had killed sinners. She knew Lute and Adam personally. They hadn't talked much about Vaggie's previous life, and Charlie was too nervous to bring it up. A part of her wanted to hide from that truth, curl up.
She swallowed and turned to the door again, remembering Sir Pentious, what he had done, for what he had sacrificed. "We should still give everyone a choice to leave, especially after everything."
"You couldn't possibly think we'd leave, now did you?" Charlie startled and looked up to see Alastor tilting his head, peering down at her. His big smile was still plastered on his face and she couldn't help but shiver.
After the battle, when everyone had thought he was dead, no one was mourning. And although she would never admit it, she was partly relieved. Even after everything, Alastor still scared her, especially with the favor she had promised him.
A smile is a valuable tool, my dear.
But what was he hiding under it?
"I'm not leaving you bitches," Husk remarked dryly, while precariously balancing quite a few bottles of wine that Lucifer was stocking on the shelves with the help of a rather tall step stool. "My entire alcohol supply is here and some of you have grown on me like cryptococcus foot fungi. Oh FUC-" he swore as he accidentally dropped a few bottles that rolled around the room.
Angel picked a bottle up and examined it, leaning against the far wall. "What Whiskers is trying to say here is that you aren't getting rid of us cunts. Rent's free! And some of us rather enjoy the ambiance and endless supply of drinks." To punctuate his point, he took a long swig.
"It's so icky here! I still have to sweep more," Niffty giggled. "And I like the violence..." her voice trailed off as she stared at a rat and bounced off, her still-bloody knife dripping on her dress.
Charlie stared at the gold stains, remembering Adam's face as he had fallen, surprised. His body was still out there, rotting with the other exorcists and demons, a smile plastered on his face. If anything, she could take relief in the fact that the first man was dead. Vaggie squeezed her hand in an attempt to comfort her, but she barely registered the action.
"And I have to say you pacifists have grown on me," Cherri smirked, bringing Charlie out of her daze. "And none of you fuckers are blowing shit up without me. Plus, drugs have gotten way too fucking expensive to not go clean."
