Untitled

“I have ways of making you talk, you know.”

Alastor rolled his eyes, his smug grin untouched by what should have been a terrifying threat to anyone tied to a chair. His smile quickly gave way to chuckles. “Oh, I’m sure you do~”

“Uh yeah, I TOTALLY do - “ 

“What are you going to do? Electrocute me? Starve me? Sleep deprive me? Oh wait. You’ve already been doing all of that and look at how little it has accomplished.” Alastor sing-songed, his head sweetly turned to its side.

“Well yeah. We gotta start with the basics. Gotta get you weak first.” Vox was leaning against the wall, arms crossed with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. One ankle casually crossed the other. Relaxed. He very much enjoyed standing over his little red prize where the only injury he risked facing was from words - something of which Alastor was very much good at. 

“Where’d you read that? Your little ‘how to torture someone for the first time’ handbook?”

Vox raised an eyebrow. “Do you really think this is my first time with a captive?”

“And do you really think this is my first time being interrogated? I’ve had it all done to me. I can even give you some suggestions if you’d like. It sounds like you need them.” Alastor pretended to think, counting on his fingers from beneath the cables. “Let’s see…there’s waterboarding. Sensory deprivation. You could blackmail me. Or you could be basic like you said and just shine a bright light in my face. Or - “

“Fuck! Just stop talking! Literally shut the fuck up!” If Vox had the ability to get a true headache, he would have long had one by now.

“I’m confused. I thought you WANTED me to talk? So which one is it?” Alastor started to spin around in his chair gleefully.

‘I knew I shouldn’t have given him the one with the damn wheels.’ Vox thought to himself. Tense hands stopped the chair in its tracks, one on each arm rest to force Alastor to look him in the eye. A quiet static noise escaped from Alastor at their sudden proximity.

“I want you to tell me what your plan is.” 

Despite his discomfort, Alastor maintained the gaze. “Need I remind you that that wasn’t part of our deal? I don’t have to tell you anything.” 

“Alastor, you have ten fucking seconds to tell me what you’re up to or I will force the information out of you myself.”

“Is that a threat?”

Vox threw his hands in the air. “It’s BEEN a threat! All fucking day! Where the fuck have you been?”

Alastor was laughing again. Spinning in circles. The little shit. 

Vox finally stood up sharply. “You know what? That is IT.”

Alastor genuinely couldn’t stop laughing as Vox left the room. It was all too easy, too fucking good to be true. His laughs only stopped when Vox came back out of pure confusion. In Vox’s hand was a feather duster of all things. 

“Don’t you have people for that?” Alastor asked.

“What do you mean?” Vox felt through the feathers, a scrutinizing look on his face.

“People to clean for you. Don’t tell me the great all powerful media overlord Vox has to do his own domestic housework.” 

That pulled a soft laugh out of Vox. It was quite the image. “No and I’m so glad for that. Do you have any idea how dusty TV sets get?”

“As a matter of fact, I don’t.”

Vox seemed to have found what he was looking for. He plucked a feather, an evil look in his eyes that had Alastor more perplexed than scared.

“And just what do you plan to do with that?”

“Something that I’m glad can’t be done to me in return. There are certain benefits to having a screen for a face. Certain afflictions that I no longer have to deal with.” As Vox got closer and closer to Alastor’s face, another uproar of angry static filled the air. 

Vox ran the feather underneath Alastor’s nose, causing it to twitch involuntarily. 

“What the actual fuck are trying to do?” Alastor couldn’t help but blurt out. He’d always known that Vox was a peculiar man but this seemed excessive.

“Is it not obvious? I’m going to make you sneeze.” Vox said simply, casually, swiping the feather back and forth several times before inserting it into one nostril.

“That’s it? Really?” Alastor was rarely surprised, and he was very surprised right now. “Tell me Vox. How is that supposed to make one talk? It’s just sneezing, a minor annoyance at best. And besides, I really don’t even think this will work.”

“I’ll make sure it does. Trust me,” Vox’s voice had a growling quality in it as he guided the feather further up. He twisted it maddeningly slowly. “You’ll talk.”

Alastor coughed reflexively, his head squirming a bit at the foreign ticklish object. It didn’t tickle in a sneeze kind of way but in a primal ‘get this thing away from me’ way.

The feather was fluffy and shook off dust particles that made Alastor’s sinuses itch. Alastor was never one to be especially sensitive to dust even when alive. One simply didn’t have a home full of antique clutter and thick carpeted rugs if it bugged allergies. But when it was quite literally forced into his nose, Alastor couldn’t help but sniffle compulsively. 

That seemed to please Vox. “Having some trouble there?”

“Not at all. I told you it wouldn’t work.” 

Alastor’s voice wavered against the itch that kept coming back no matter how hard he tried to fight it. It was a stubborn tickle, unlike any that he’d ever experienced in both his life and afterlife. It wasn’t an irritant that he could simply blow his nose to get rid of. It was intense, in his face, right there with no escape. He felt his eyes go unfocused and snapped himself back into reality.

“Huh. I must say I’m really surprised you’ve lasted this long. I should’ve known that someone with your willpower would’ve put up a fight, and a rather good one at that.” Vox continued to manipulate the feather, earning some tears in return. “I mean, I for one don’t think I would have lasted even thirty seconds.”

“Hhh...snf. That’s because I’m much stronger than you are.” Alastor’s voice shook against his will. If only he could use his hands to help scratch the itch away.

“Yeah, but strength can only get you so far. I can’t imagine how badly it must itch. It must be driving you crazy.” 

Alastor gripped the armrests. “N-not gonna…” He exhaled, held his breath. “Hhhh - notgonnawork!”

“I can see how bad you need to sneeze. Don’t you think you’d feel better if you let it out? You can’t hold it in all day. Come on Bambi.” A mocking hand petted Alastor’s knee. 

Alastor tried to keep his eyes open but much to his horror, they were closing on their own. So much for -

“Hhh’ESSSHHH!” 

The sneeze was almost pointless in the sense that it alleviated nothing. Before Alastor could even get a glimpse at the smug look on Vox’s face, he was already snapping forward again.

“Hhh’esch! Eh’tschh! H’eschktt! Hh’esshuuhh! Hh’hh-’hesshhhhh!”

The feather was drenched, making it stiff enough to keep doing its job as long as it stayed in the sensitive spot. Which even through the harsh movements, Vox had it all under control and kept the feather firmly in place.

Vox snickered. “Aww, my goodness. Bless you.”

“Fuck you!” Alastor rasped out, voice already thick with congestion. He was taking a deep breath before he could even try to stop it. “Huh’jeshhuhh! Hiih’Nkxshh! Hh’ksshh!”

“Very convincing, Al.”

A pink tinge spread across Alastor’s cheeks. “Heh’aschuh!!”

“Had enough?” 

“Nope. I - Hhhh’atissh!  Heh-ksshh! HEH!” Alastor sniffled miserably, his lungs filling with an involuntary desperate gasp for air. He felt like his body was in a panic. Much to his relief, he felt the feather slide out of his nose. “Hey hey hey, I didn’t say I’d talk now.”

“I heard you loud and clear. But you made a disgusting mess of yourself. Ha! I can’t WAIT for the headlines! The great Radio Demon snotting all over himself! That is unless…you stop being stubborn and tell me your stupid little plan?”

“If it’s so stupid then why do you even want to know?”

Vox sighed. “Fine. Be that way then. At least blow your nose. You sound all gross.” He pulled out his handkerchief from his pocket with a smirk. 

Alastor would rather die again than be subject to this. Then again, he’d die even sooner if the images of his face covered in snot rolled around the general public. So he decided to allow his face to be buried into the handkerchief held by his enemy. It felt admittedly nice to clear his sinuses. That is, until an overwhelming scent had him hitching again.

“Huh! Hhheh! Is that - H’uhrsshhmmph! What did you - HHHES’SCMMMPHH!” 

Vox dramatically put a hand on his own head. “Oh shoot! I’m so sorry! I must’ve forgotten that certain colognes get to you.”

Despite his apologetic words, Vox kept the handkerchief in place. Alastor looked up with angry bleary eyes before falling apart again.

“Huh’esshmmmphh! H’shmmphh! H’hh’tshcmmphh!” 

“You’d think that after seventy years I would’ve remembered every little thing about you…oh wait! I do!” Vox laughed, a surprisingly gentle hand rubbing up and down Alastor’s back through the fit. 

The tips of Alastor’s ears grew hot. He’d suffered much, much worse at the hands of much worse, so why was this proving to be the most humiliating experience of them all? 

Vox was having the time of his life cleaning up Alastor’s face and grabbing the duster once again with the same excitement as if was about to open yet another Christmas present. 

It took a few tries for Alastor’s voice to work. “What would you even do with this information if you were to get it? It’s not like it would change the constraints of our deal. You might as well give up.”

Vox picked out another feather. “The only way for you to get out of this is to tell me everything I want to know. You can’t talk yourself out of this.” He gave Alastor a look. “And besides, what’s so bad about it? It’s just sneezing. You said it yourself. Now hold still.” Vox grabbed Alastor by the chin, his grip surprisingly tight.

In went the feather on the opposite side. Thankfully the tickle wasn’t as instant as Alastor had feared, but it didn’t take long to escalate in such an already sensitive nose. 

“Huh’shxttt! Akschkt! Isn’t this - Heh’gnxt! - Isn’t this getting old for you? I’m not gonna - Hh - I’m not - Hh-hh-hh’itssshhtt! Kschxxt! I’m not gonna t- Huh’jddsshhuu! Heh-heh’RSHH!”

“You might wanna save your breath, Alastor. You’re gonna need it.”

Breathing was a necessary evil. With every breath came a sneeze, and every sneeze knocked the wind out of him. Alastor couldn’t keep a straight - “H’tszschhtt!” - line of thought. But he’d never give up. Temporary discomfort would never be worse than his plans forever being messed up. 

“Hh’sshhhh! Ktschh! It’eschewww! Huh’eschewww! Hah’eTSCHHchuhhh!”

Alastor was a dripping mess. He felt terribly stuffed up as if he had a horrible head cold. He noticed his swollen sinuses were starting to feel numb. His nose still itched from the feather and his breath would hitch, but nothing would build up. It was as much of a relief as it was torture.

Vox too was becoming rather displeased. He removed the feather and sighed from deep within his circuitry.

“Fuck.” Vox crossed his arms, back to his original stance. Disappointment took over his expression. “How’d you manage to do that?” 

“I beg your pardon?”

“Stop sneezing. How’d you stop? Like genuinely asking.”

Alastor sniveled, unable to breathe at all through his nose. “I physically can’t anymore. Too congested. Surely you must have known that you can’t literally make someone sneeze for hours on end.”

Vox glanced to the side.

“You’ve always been so dense, Vincent.”

“Well it was worth a try, okay? I almost broke you! I could see it!” Vox pointed a finger in Alastor’s direction.

“I will admit, it was a rather creative approach. I didn’t even know such a thing existed.”

Vox shrugged. “You can find anything online nowadays.”

“And that is why new technology does more harm than good.” 

They were silent for a moment. Vox couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty at how stuffy Alastor sounded. With the excitement of potentially winning now over, he realized that Alastor’s misery would take some time to truly be over. 

The others might assume the great Radio Demon was sick; Vox knew it was evidence of a failure and that Alastor would have no qualms about bragging.

Which was why Vox moved to quickly untie the restraints. He wasn’t worried over a damn stuffy nose. Not at all. His reputation was on the line. 

“You might as well go shower early tonight. Make it hot and steamy. Should help with the congestion.” Vox said with a blush.

“I assume I’ll be showering alone or are you going to be a creep about that too?” Alastor quickly stood to move away from Vox, ever so eager to get his personal space back.

“I’m not a creep!” Vox seemed genuinely offended at that comment. “I was just saying it’ll help.”

“But you are, though.” Alastor paused, tilted his head to the side. “I’m just wondering…”

“What’s that?”

“How did you even remember what cologne I’m allergic to?”

Vox turned red, suddenly couldn’t make eye contact.

I’ll keep your smug ass alive.

It turned out that being kept alive meant that and only that - being given the bare minimum of sleep, food, water, showers, or anything health promoting really. That combined with the crowds of demons constantly flocking in and out of the Tower meant that it was only a matter of ‘when’ and not ‘if’ Alastor would come down with something.

So it hadn’t been a total surprise when Alastor’s throat had started feeling scratchy. It had persisted well into the night and into the next day no matter how much he cleared his throat. The Vees seemed to pick up on how much he enjoyed his hot coffee and limited it to one measly mug with breakfast. Then came long the other symptoms that only promised more misery to come - the runny nose, coughing, sniffling, and - 

“E’tscxxktt!” 

That. He’d been doing that quite a bit today. It was getting near damn impossible to hold them back now, and much harder to restrain them with him unable to physically hold his nose. He sniffled softly, peaking over at Vox and Valentino in the bed to make sure they were still asleep. Luckily he still heard soft undisturbed snores. 

They sure seem to be sleeping great.

Alastor stared longingly. So far the only thing that had given him slightly away was his dark eye bags. Vox was having too much fun with it. The TV demon had insisted on keeping Alastor up late last night as an ‘unwilling audience’ for his own personal speech rehearsals and waking him up every time Alastor started to nod off. It drove Alastor insane, but his smile never faltered.

Now it was cruel that Alastor’s own body itself had woken him back up sometime later in the night just to feel worse. He now felt achy, weak, and most dreadful of all - cold. Hell was hot; this was a well known fact. Yet he was shivering against the cords binding him to the chair. 

Wonderful. Whatever this was seemed determined to stay and make itself known.

Alastor had been doing a good job of hiding this. He ate all his meals yesterday despite having no appetite. He carefully chose his words to not sound stuffy. He waited until the Vees were out of earshot to cough quietly. 

But a fever? 

Pushing through this would certainly be a challenge, he figured, though not something he couldn’t do. He’d hidden his wound and that had also been accompanied by a fever. A cold was nothing compared to that. Yes he’d have to literally grin and bear it, but it would all be worth it in the end. 

“Hh-”

Alastor sniffled, tried to think about anything else as his nose tickled again, but there was only one way to make it truly go away.

“Atschkktt!” 

His nose was not satisfied, and very keen on making this apparent.

“Heh’shxxt! Hhh’gxxtt!” N’sshxxt!!”

Vox shifted in his sleep and rolled over, but the two remained sound asleep. Alastor grinned arrogantly. No matter the circumstances, he was always the one in control. Some discomfort would never stand in the way of his ever so carefully crafted plan. Sick or not, he’d be the first one up again in the morning like he always was - ready to start his day still one step ahead of the Vees.

~

“I know he’s your toy to play with and all, but he looks very fuckable when he sleeps.”

“I got pics and vids at every angle! Want some with you in it?”

“Be quiet you two! The little radio baby’s sleeping!”

Hushed excited voices and mean snickers circled around Alastor until he finally stirred awake. He looked up to see the Vees all staring at him. The window shades were rolled up to reveal the bright red of another day in Hell, which was exactly how he felt.

“Aw man! I told you not to wake him up! I just got him down.” Vox laughed, leaning in towards Alastor with his hands on his hips. “Aww, are you mad we interrupted your little cat nap?”

“Fuck off Vox.” Alastor spat out, hesitant to test out his voice with anything more complex of a sentence.

“Well good morning to you too, sleeping beauty.” Vox mocked. “Is that any way to speak to the same people simply trying to make sure you don’t oversleep and miss breakfast?”

It’s not even oversleeping. It’s just sleeping at this point!

Alastor sniffed carefully and cleared his throat. “You talk big game - “ he paused. His voice sounded rough around the edges but nothing too noticeable as long as he was careful. “ - for someone whose job it is to make me breakfast.”

“You’re lucky we even feed you at all.” Vox said.

“The point still stands. You act as if you’re doing me a favor but the reality is that I get to relax while you slave away behind the stove. Who’s really the lucky one here?”

“For that attitude I don’t think he should get his coffee this morning.” 

“That’s a great idea Velvette. I’m sure he wouldn’t want us to take away some of the food on his plate too.” Vox added, his tone icy.

Fuck. Forget the food. Coffee was the only thing that Alastor really needed. Every inch of his head pounded.

Vox smirked. “That’s what I thought. Val, get him ready would you? Wouldn’t want his breakfast getting cold.”

“Understood.” Valentino smiled and took a seat to scroll on his phone as the others left. He knew to take an extra long time so that by the time Alastor got to the table, the food would be nice and cold. When Alastor was finally taken to the bathroom for his five minutes (yes, it was timed) of privacy, he wasted no time blowing his nose and letting out desperate sneezes into the rough toilet paper. 

“Hh’ZZSCHH! Es’hhSSHHehhh! H’ISSHHHuhhh!”

He cringed as he looked at his appearance in the mirror. He really didn’t look well at all. His nose and cheeks were turning red. Alastor grimaced. He knew what he had to do. 

He was escorted to the kitchen where a meager breakfast was waiting for him. Not that he wanted it anyway. He could only choke down a few bites this time around before he was absolutely done. He handed over his full plate to Kitty.

“That was vile, Vox. Absolutely disgusting.” Alastor started, earning an irritated eye twitch in return. 

“This isn’t a five star restaurant you ungrateful little prick. So sorry we didn’t look for a corpse for you.” Was Vox’s reply. 

“A corpse would certainly have more flavor than that garbage you call food. I could give you directions to the nearest cemetery if you’d like.”

Vox stared at Alastor in what looked like deep thought. Vox was almost going to say something when Alastor beat him to it.

“Don’t tell me I already hurt your feelings today. I know you want to impress me so badly but you simply don’t stand a chance.”

Vox sighed as he tied Alastor back to the chair, a little tighter than before. Any thoughts on his mind were now long gone.

“Don’t be such a bitch today.” Vox said, his voice quieter than before. “I have some online meetings later and I don’t need you fucking them up.”

“Ooo, big scary tough meetings! From the comfort of your own office, that is. Tell me, Vox. Are you too afraid to face these oh so important people in person? Is that why you hide behind your silly little screens?”

“Could say the same about your stupid little radio shows. Too scared to show your face to the public, hm?”

“At least my face is worth showing to the public in the first place.” 

“Oh yeah? Not for long.” Vox dug in his pocket and forced the frown mask onto Alastor’s face. At least he didn’t hang around his face for too long; too eager to stand back and admire his work.

“If you’re gonna be a brat and not shut the fuck up when I tell you to, then this is what we’re gonna do. I have too much to do today to deal with your petty little comments.”

Thank God.

With his face now covered, Alastor could relax a bit. For once he was happy to be put in his place. His face was safely concealed and he now had a legitimate reason to not speak. He was wheeled to Vox’s office and parked in his usual spot where he could try to discreetly rest in his chair.

Aside from the sounds of the keyboard clacking and mouse clicking, it was otherwise silent. Alastor was very grateful for this. The lack of caffeine on top of being sick made his head want to explode. 

Not long into Vox’s first meeting did a problem begin to arise. The fabric covering Alastor’s face was making him sniffle like crazy. It was admittedly hard to breathe in the first place through the thick cloth even without a stuffy nose, and now every breath was devoted to trying to keep himself together.

“Hh’hsshhxxxph! Hhh…hhh-hh-heh’tsmxxphtt! Snf! Huh’esshhmmphh! Snf…snf….H’shhzzmphhh! SNF!”

Alastor couldn’t help but sneeze helplessly into the mask, a wet spot forming at the front. He cringed. Maybe he hadn’t completely thought this through. 

Vox popped on the mute button and looked over in disgust.

“Shut the fuck up Alastor. I have that mask on you for a reason.” He unmuted and returned to his meeting.

The fit was over for now, leaving Alastor to sniffle quietly as the mess soaked the mask. He was so ready for this all to be over with already. Now that he thought about it, shouldn’t he have been granted immunity from all things illness if he was the strongest sinner in Hell? He’d have a strong word with Rosie once this was all said and done. 

He felt like he needed to cough, but obviously wouldn’t allow himself to. His chest ached until it forced its way out, that too muffled into the mask. Vox looked over again, this time a peculiar expression on his face. Alastor glared as if daring him to say something until Vox returned his attention once again to whoever it was he was talking to. 

The meetings dragged on and on, Alastor feeling steadily worse with each one. His muscles ached down to his bones and he was shaking again. He was sure his eyes looked dull and glassy from above the mask. Thankfully Vox was much too self absorbed to notice. 

“They LOVE me, Al! They fucking love me!” Vox stood from his desk in a manic high, his eye swirling. 

Alastor startled. He had zoned out, the world around him fuzzy.

“That could NOT have gone any better! It’s amazing what I can accomplish without you in the way! Now do you see any of the other Vees in here with me? Oh, you don’t? See! I can do things on my own!”

Vox started moving towards the chair.

Don’t you fucking do it you creep. 

“I do have to give you some credit though. Ever since I captured you Voxtek has exploded in ratings.” 

Please don’t.

Alastor tried to get away from the charismatic hands reaching for his shoulders. He’d already been pushing it close earlier with Vox getting the mask on but the risk had been worth it. This however would definitely give his fever away, no doubt about it.

“I still wonder what made you even make a deal like this to start with but who the fuck cares! I’m fucking famous!”

Alastor scooted back in his chair, but it was too late. Vox’s hands had already met his shoulders. Alastor froze as Vox stopped in his tracks.

“Wait. Am I crazy?” Vox grabbed Alastor’s arm and sure enough, the heat was consistent. 

“Very. What's your point?” 

Glitchy radio static sounded as Vox removed the mask and laid a hand on his forehead.

“What the - you’re hot? Why are you so hot?” 

Alastor sharpened his grin. “Feeling forward today, aren’t we Vox?” 

Vox flushed blue, a fun contrast to Alastor’s own red flush. “That’s not what I meant, you idiot! I mean you’re…hot.”

“It would seem as though your hands are quite cold.” 

Vox shook his head as his hand migrated to Alastor’s jawline, studying his face closely. “No no. You are absolutely burning up. And you…are you pale? How the fuck is that even possible?”

“Must you insist on feeling up my entire body? If you really insist, they make special devices that tell people’s temperature without having to grope them.” 

Alastor immediately regretted saying this when he saw Vox’s face light up.

“That’s actually not a bad idea.” Vox muttered. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere. HA! Not like you can anyway!”

Fuck. This really, really wasn’t good. Vox saw everything that even slightly resembled being human as a weakness. Even the first time that Alastor had asked for a bathroom break was a twenty minute long session of laughter and mocking. And now the freak was basically just served prime material for exploitation on a steaming silver platter.

Think Alastor, think!

There was no way that the number of the thermometer would be anywhere close to normal. What could be a good reason for that? A quirk of being based on a deer? What even was a normal temperature for a deer anyway? They’re mammals so it would be the same, right?

With his eyes closed, Alastor recognized the shuffle of familiar footsteps approaching him. But before he could even open them and talk his way out of this, he felt something cold and cylinder being shoved into his mouth. He immediately spit it out.

“What the fuck are you doing now?” Alastor snapped.

“What does it look like? I’m trying to take your temperature!” 

“Well don’t!”

Vox picked up the thermometer off the ground and crossed his arms. “Or you’ll what? Hm?” 

Trying to think of a reasonable threat through a headache proved to be impossible. The best Alastor could muster was a scowl.

Vox smirked. “That’s what I thought. Now open your mouth and no, I’m not cleaning it first. It’s your own damn fault the thermometer is covered in floor germs now.”

So in went the thermometer, Vox’s hand firmly holding it in place. Alastor felt his face heat up even more. He could only imagine what he looked like right now. And it was about to get worse. Of all the times for his nose to itch.

“How much…hh - l-longer?” Alastor asked with half lidded eyes, his consonants muffled from the device.

Vox waved a finger. “Ah ah ah. No talking ‘til it’s done.”

Alastor held his breath until the shrill of the beep signaled it was done. As soon as Vox took it out, Alastor just barely aimed towards his lap in time.

“Hhh’ESSHuhh!”

Vox visibility recoiled. “Real classy. My hand was right fucking there! You couldn’t have waited like three fucking seconds? God! Now let’s see,” his expression dropped. “Fuck you Al. It’s 101 even.”

Oh. Oh. That explained why he felt so shit. Alastor watched intently as Vox turned things over in his head. 

“I thought you seemed kind of off earlier…” Vox trailed off, eyes darting to the side. If Alastor hadn’t known any better, he would have sworn Vox looked genuinely guilty. 

“Eh’kesshhchh! Ekk’hSHHH!” At least this time Alastor had the decency to turn his head over his shoulder. For a cannibalistic serial killer, he did at least live by some manners. He sniffled thickly, panic in his eyes at the mess coming down with nothing to hide it. 

“Okay, gross. I can’t watch this shit anymore.” Vox moved swiftly to untie the restraints. He shoved a tissue box from his desk in Alastor’s lap and sighed. “Well don’t just stare at them! I’d rather my hostage not snot all over himself. It looks bad.”

Alastor begrudgingly complied, his eyes fluttering shut once again into the crumpled up pile in his hands. “Hh’eshhmphh!” 

“Wow. You are sick. No wonder…” Vox leaned against his desk in intense thought, his claws tapping against the wood. “What all is wrong?”

“Pardon?” 

“Like your symptoms.”

“Need I remind you that - “  

“That talking isn’t a part of the deal and blah blah blah I’m the great all powerful Radio Demon. We go through this every fucking day. I can’t help you if you don’t actually tell me what’s wrong.”

“Do you really think that I’d believe you actually want to help me and that this isn’t a ploy to think of more ways to torture me?”

“Maybe I was going to take pity on you and offer you an actual bed. A reprieve if you will. I’m supposed to keep you alive, not let you keel over from some stupid flu.” Vox grinned cruelly. “Or if it’s really not that bad, I can tie you back up and we can resume our activities as if nothing’s wrong. Your choice.”

“...”

“...”

“It’s just some stupid flu. You said so yourself.” Alastor grumbled.

“It’s just a simple question.”

“One that I am under no obligation to answer.”

“Why are you being such a shit? I’m trying to actually do something nice for you for once and you can’t even cooperate for thirty fucking seconds!”

The yelling was like an icepick in Alastor’s ears. He winced and saw Vox’s features soften, much to his own surprise. “Fine. If you really want to know, I have a terrible headache that you most certainly are not helping with.”

“Okay. It’s a start.” Vox said slowly, deciding to let the jab roll over his shoulders this time. “Well, staying here and yelling at me isn’t going to fix anything.”

“Fix it? No. Make me feel better? Perhaps.”

“What will make you actually feel better is rest. It’s not as fun with you already suffering from something else. It’s too easy.”

“Suffering is a very strong word to describe what’s merely a mild illness.”

“Call it whatever the fuck you want to call it. You still need to be in bed.” Vox sighed as if selling his own soul on purpose. “Get up. Let’s get this shit over with.”

Of course Alastor didn’t move.

“Now.”

“No.”

“And you said I’m giving you a headache? Get the fuck up Alastor!” Long black cords reached out to grab the deer and quite literally drag him down the hall to the bedroom - Vox’s bedroom. 

“Can’t I have my own bed?” Damn his pride at this point. Alastor was begging, squirming against the wires carrying him into the bed of debauchery that most certainly had not been washed up to Alastor’s standards. Even being strapped to that chair again sounded like a better fate. 

“You really think I would let you out of my sight like that? How else am I supposed to keep an eye on you?” 

Alastor thought for a moment. “You seem to have forgotten that there’s already a second occupant that resides in this bed. What kind of guest would I be to kick his host out of his own bed?”

“Heh. Nice try. Val said he won’t be back from the studio until tomorrow. But come on! Doesn’t that feel better than the chair?”

Once the feelings of grossness melted away, Alastor did have to admit to himself that the soft mattress was worlds better than that uncomfortable cursed office chair. It had been so long that he’d almost forgotten what a real bed felt like. His achy stiff legs nearly jumped for joy at getting to stretch out. He wondered if he would have been granted this luxury earlier in the course of his illness if only he had said something sooner.

“That’s what I thought. Now can I trust you to lay there and not cause trouble or do I need to tie you to the bed too?” 

Alastor paled. A chair was one thing where he at least had some mobility, but a whole bed? He quickly nodded, only to bury his face into his elbow without warning. “Esshuhhh!”

“Tch. Who am I kidding? You’re no threat. You’re absolutely pathetic right now.”

Vox spun around on his heel with a smug smile. He could feel the glaring red eyes digging a hole into his back, but simply waved a dismissive hand as he shut off the lights and excused himself out of the room.

With the TV bastard gone again, Alastor could finally try to get comfortable. Laying completely flat was hurting his sinuses, so he stacked the pillows so he was sleeping at least somewhat upright. If only he had an extra blanket or three. He was freezing even under the thick duvet. 

Despite his discomfort, it didn’t take long to fall into a deep restorative sleep.

~

“Alastor…wake up…Al.”

Sharp claws were gently shaking Alastor’s overly warm shoulder. Alastor refused to open his eyes. This was the best sleep he had gotten in weeks and it still couldn’t have been for very long given how exhausted he still felt. 

“You have to wake up. I have something for you.”

Through barely open eyes, Alastor made out a very worried looking Vox standing over him with a plastic bag in hand. 

“I’m sure it can wait until after I’ve slept.” Alastor’s voice was low and hoarse, groggy with sleep, yet still commanding in its own way.

For some reason Vox didn’t seem to want to accept this as an answer. So persistent in getting him to open up his mouth and take a capful of something thick, syrupy, and nasty. But if taking it would mean that he would be left alone to properly nap, Alastor did as told and rolled back over on his other side to snore, as if obnoxiously on purpose. In the distance Vox was saying something else before sighing and stomping away.

~

The room was pitch black aside from a soft red glow attempting to enter through the closed window shades. Alastor sat up sharply, a damp wash cloth falling off of his forehead into his lap. He noticed extra weight on top of him and feared it was a form of restraints until he realized it was just extra blankets. As nice as it may be, a deep feeling of regret settled into his stomach as he realized the circumstances that brought him to this cursed bed in the first place.

Congested coughs began to rip out of his painfully dry and sore throat, painful and impossible to stop. Alastor startled out of his skin when Vox appeared out of seemingly nowhere to nudge a glass of water into his hands and rub between his shoulder blades. 

“Geez. Breathe Al.” 

Alastor shifted away from the hand on his back, not even completely sure where Vox was or where the hell he had come from. The water tasted heavenly and was too irresistible to not down it all. He had several questions but instead sneezed into the blankets.

“Hh’esSHHHhuhhh!” 

“God, use the tissues. They’re there for a reason.” Vox popped on the lamp to reveal the nightstand covered in a tissue box, throat lozenges, a sports drink…in fact, it looked like a whole pharmacy exploded. 

“This stuff wasn’t cheap you know, so you better learn to appreciate this.” Vox added.

You shouldn’t have. No really, you shouldn’t have. 

“I s-I suppose-” The voice that came out of Alastor was hoarse, barely there, breaking with every syllable. 

Vox raised an amused eyebrow. Alastor coughed harshly again. 

“I suppose you’ve had your fun. Now let’s…fuck!” His voice was quiet before completely dissolving away. 

“Now let’s fuck??” 

Alastor shook his head in a frenzy. Words couldn’t come out, only rough squeaks. He desperately tried to emit his voice into a nearby device but even that was filled with too much glitchy static to be understood. 

“No. Fucking. WAY!” Vox burst into over the top laughter that had Alastor admittedly jealous that he was even able to make such loud noise. “If only I got that on video! This is way too fucking good! I’ve genuinely prayed before for you to not be able to talk and you FINALLY lost your voice!”

This fell on completely flat ears. 

“Maybe you wouldn’t have lost it if you hadn’t run your damn mouth so much earlier! I almost feel bad for you - except I don't!”

Alastor looked around to see if there was a conveniently placed notepad and pen. Of course there wasn’t. That would simply be too damn easy. He mimed the action of writing. 

“I’m sorry, what is it you want? You’ll have to speak up. Oh wait! You can’t!” Vox fell into even more arrogant laughter. 

Even as a human, Alastor was nothing without his voice. The whole reason he’d even taken a liking to hot tea in the first place was to keep his voice pristinely clear for his shows. Now in his afterlife, he thought his radio powers would always grant him a voice regardless of the circumstances. 

Then again, this was hell after all.

“Hh’ISSHHHUH! I’tzzchh! E’eskhewww!” Alastor frantically searched for the tissues, loathing the judgmental eyes staring him down as he blew his nose. The worst part about this wasn’t even the illness; it was the freaking audience practically salivating at his every display. Only this time, the smirk watching him turned into a genuine frown.

“This is getting sad, even for you.”

There was no response. There couldn’t be. 

“At the very least, you need to eat something. You slept through lunch and you hardly ate anything before that.”

Alastor glanced at the clock. It was a little after 8 pm, although it didn’t feel like it at all. He felt like he had slept for both twenty minutes and twenty years at the same time. 

“Don’t worry. You’ll still sleep all night once you take the next dose of meds. It’s almost time for them but you can’t keep taking them on an empty stomach. I tried to get you to eat earlier but someone wanted to be difficult and sleep instead.”

Food did admittedly sound good. Not that Alastor would (or could) let Vox know that. His hopeful expression must have given him away though because Vox was quickly shuffling out of the room with a triumphant smile.

That bastard has to win everything, doesn’t he?

Much to Alastor’s surprise, he wasn’t brought the shitty scraps that they had been feeding him. It looked to be a proper meal - a sandwich and bowl of soup accompanied by a steaming mug. Alastor tried to smell the food to see if anything was off, but his nose was much too blocked. 

If it was poisoned, Alastor didn’t even care. The tea was a wonderful blend of citrus and honey that coated his aching throat with every sip. The food was even better, and he quickly began eating as if Vox would take it away (which wasn’t that far-fetched of a fear, now that Alastor thought about it).

“Don’t get used to this.” Vox warned. Alastor tried to hide his enthusiasm, but he couldn’t help it. His smile was finally real. This was the best he’d felt in days, and that was saying a lot given how he still didn’t feel anywhere close to well. The tray was empty by the time he was done.

“Aw, looks like someone was hungry. My little pet loves his gourmet food, doesn’t he?” 

Total silence except for Alastor narrowing his eyes. Vox seemed disappointed.

“Uh, right. Can’t talk.” Vox reached for the bottle labeled ‘PM’ and started clawing off the wrapper. “Guess you can take the meds now.”

Only Alastor didn’t readily accept the capful of meds being held out to him.

“Please don’t put up a fight over the medicine too.” Vox begged, exasperated.  

Alastor held up a finger, his eyes closing. “Huh’tschhh!” He waited. “Isshhuuu!”

“You done?”

Alastor paused, sniffled. Shrugged.

Vox couldn’t help but find the whole action absolutely adorable, curse it all. Alastor drank it quickly before sneezing again for the umpteenth time.

“H’gghISCHEWW!”

“Figured you weren’t done.” Vox mused, passing over a handful of tissues. Alastor broke off into another harsh coughing fit after blowing his nose.

“I’d feel bad for you if you weren’t such a dick.”

Alastor laid back down with his back facing Vox.

“So rude after I’ve been so gracious towards you.”

Nothing. 

Vox knew he wasn’t being ignored on purpose, but it certainly still felt that way. He kicked his legs up on the bed to get comfortable and turned the lamp off, admittedly a bit bored.

It didn’t take long for the cough syrup to work its way through Alastor’s body and make every muscle feel like jelly. He swore he felt something playing with his ears, but he felt too out of it to do anything about it. Soon he was pulled into the darkness.

~

Valentino returned home from the studio the next morning. He couldn’t wait to collapse into bed and not move until noon. As fun as the late film sessions were for him, they definitely messed up his sleep schedule. Unfortunately his plans were derailed when he couldn’t even get into his own freaking bedroom.

“What the - why is this door locked?” Valentino knocked on the door. “Vox! You in there jerking off or something? Without me?” 

Vox emerged into the doorway, cracking the door behind him to not let any light in. “Shh! Didn’t you get my text? You’ll have to sleep somewhere else today. Alastor’s using our bed and he’ll be there for a while.”

“Really? Like, our Alastor?” Curiously, Valentino pushed his way into the room to see the lump sprawled amongst the covers. He turned to his partner with a devious grin.

“What do we have here? You finally got that bitch in your bed? Please tell me you filmed it!”

Vox gritted his teeth. “Yes, he’s in bed but not like that.”

“Don’t be modest! We all know you’ve been wanting to fuck him for like decades now! How’d it go? Who topped? Oh what am I saying? I know it was you!” Valentino reached out a hand to crawl up Vox’s chest, only for it to be rudely shoved away.

“Would you shut the fuck up and keep it down?” 

Valentino retracted his hand as if a dog had just lashed out at him. “The fuck’s your problem?” 

“For your information, he’s sick.”

“Aww, pobrecito.” Valentino rolled his eyes. “Who gives a shit? He shouldn’t be in our bed then!”

“MY bed.” Vox corrected. “You just sleep there too.”

“Why you little - pinche pendejo! Velvette! Get in here!” Valentino called out. 

“I thought I told you to be quiet!” Vox growled.

Soon Velvette came in, head engrossed in her phone. “What is it, love? This better be good. I’m about to go live.”

“Tell Vox to get that snot filled germ factory out of MY side of the bed!” Valentino pointed to the scene.

“Ooo, this is good!” Velvette sped past Valentino, getting her phone ready. “Want me to make a poll of what we’ll do to him? I know the chat will absolutely eat this up!”

“Did you not hear me? The fucker is in my BED!”

“Oh don’t be such a lil’ piss baby about it. This is way too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if it was your clean sheets getting fucked!”

“Would you two just shut the fuck up already?”

Valentino and Velvette looked at Vox, then each other.

“Yes, he’s sick. We’ve established this many times now. He’s fucking miserable and you assholes marching in here yelling isn’t helping at all. So if you’re not going to be of any use, then get the fuck out.”

There was a moment of silence before Velvette broke out into a flurry of giggles. “For a second there Vox, I thought you were being serious this time.” 

“I am serious,” Vox stepped forward to push her phone away, his serious expression unchanged. “Put this away and leave. You too Val.”

“What’s with you? Don’t tell me you actually care about making sure the little fawn gets his precious rest.” Valentino said. 

Vox hesitated, hands going into his pockets. “He’s my hostage and I’ll deal with him my way.” He finally stated.

Velvette and Valentino shared a knowing glance.

“Fine. If he’s all yours, then you can have fun wiping his nose today or whatever the fuck it is you’re doing.” Velvette said. 

“We won’t get in your way at all.” Valentino added with a fake smile.

With that, the two had stomped off, no doubt on their way to complain to each other. But Vox didn’t even care. He stepped back in the room to see Alastor still fast asleep. Breathing fast through congested snores, ears pinned back and smile trying to fall. More meds would be in order later.

“Let me take your temperature.” Vox stood in front of Alastor, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, ears drooping and nose glaringly reddened from the cold he’d caught while staying with him.

The other sinner rolled his eyes. “There’s ndo ndeed for that. I dond’t feel that bad—snrff!” He lifted a hand to rub at his running nose, feeling a prickling irritation form in his nasal passages.

“Oh come on, I’m just checking. You sound like shit.” The internal sensors in his body allowed him to accurately measure the temperature of anything he touched. He raised a hand to Alastor’s forehead, but the deer demon leaned back, pushing him away.

“Keep your hands to yourself.” He sniffled again, his nose scrunching up to try to fight off the growing itch. One hand stayed against Vox’s chest, the other propping him up on the bed. The prickling in his sinuses wasn’t stopping, and keeping his definitely-not-partner away was quickly becoming more about not sneezing on him than about not wanting to be touched.

The other demon challenged him with a glare. He grabbed his arm, moving it out of his way, and put his palm against Alastor’s forehead just as the latter’s breath started to hitch. “W-hhait, I— H-heh— HHEHDTZ’zhue!” He snapped forward with a wet, vicious sneeze right in Vox’s face. He didn’t even try to sniffle after that—he knew his nose was so full of snot that it wouldn’t do anything, and he could feel another sneeze coming. This time, he pulled his arm free and summoned a handkerchief, burying his face into it. “Hihh… IYHD’TZZHHH! Hh’KZSHHF!”

Meanwhile, Vox simply looked at him with a deadpan frown, his screen misted with tiny, mucousy droplets. Luckily, he had the ability to fully turn his face into 2D pixels, so nothing got in his face. “Really?” he sighed, pulling his own handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping his screen.

Alastor was too busy blowing his nose to respond.

“Now I need to take a shower.” He headed into the bathroom, grumbling about how Alastor better take care of him if he gets sick, too. He opened the cabinet under the sink, taking out a bottle of screen cleaner and a microfiber cloth. After spritzing the cloth, he wiped his screen down again, cleaning any remaining streaks. He’d have to do it all again after he showered, but first, he had to make sure that Alastor was going to keep his ass in bed.

At least the other had finished cleaning himself up by the time Vox came back. “I tried to ward you,” he said without looking at him. Those few sneezes had taken a remarkable toll on his voice, coming out hoarse and cracked.

“Yeah, thanks. And you’re spending another night here. You can leave in the morning if you’re… less of a biohazard.” He turned and walked off again, going to find a box of tissues.

“Are you that desperate for mby compady?” Alastor tried to laugh, but it quickly devolved into coughing, rasping against his already aching throat. “I dond’t feel like goi’g adywhere, adyways,” he muttered. He was pretty sure the other couldn’t even hear him from the other end of the room.