Trust Falls and Close Calls
Stitches and Lucifer arrived in the lobby, still conversing excitedly, their conversation morphing from talking about various recipes and ranking them to stories involving food. She had become quite comfortable with the King of Hell in such a short time, his child-like excitement seamlessly blending with the fatherly understanding of someone much older. She usually found it uncomfortable to be around men, especially alone, but Lucifer was different. He was kind and gentle, yet passionate and energized, with eyes that held so much... everything. If anyone could understand her…
No, he would condemn me too.
"-so then Bee was like 'you don't got the stomach to out eat me', but it was APPLE FUCKING TURNOVERS so I..." Lucifer paused. "Hey, Stitches, you okay?" His voice was soft, and as she turned to look at him, she saw the concern in his eyes. Crap, was I that spaced out?
She shook her head and smiled. "Y-yeah, I just zoned out for a minute, sorry!" She ran a hand behind her neck. People usually hated it when she would disappear into her own head, missing bits of the conversation. “I’m sorry, you were talking about Beelzebub and apple turnovers?”
Lucifer searched her face, and she quickly looked away. His face was kind and understanding, but concerned, and she didn’t need pity. So, she started scanning around the lobby, desperate to change the subject. "Where is everyone? I thought there was a group activity-" Lucifer touched her arm, and she froze mid-sentence as she looked back into his eyes. It was such a gentle touch, but it triggered an old reflex. Men are scary. He removed his hand, as though sensing it was making her uncomfortable, but he didn't stop looking her in the eye.
"Stitches, you don't have to talk to me if you aren't ready yet, but I am here when you are."
Such a simple sentence, yet it held so much weight. It was like he could see the burdens she carried, the chains of sins dragging down her mind and soul. Yet, there was no judgment, no forced platitudes. Just… an understanding, deep and palpable, like two souls who had experienced the worst of life, and could finally put it into words between the two of them. She hesitated, her walls cautiously dropping-
"Salutations!"
Both Lucifer and Stitches jumped away from each other and gasped, Alastor having appeared behind them. He chuckled, rather pleased with himself, the radio filter static increasing. She was annoyed, but Lucifer was already yelling at him, and their aggressive banter soon filled the silence of the lobby. Realizing that this was her chance, she slipped away and went to sit by the fireplace. Well, he's an ass, but at least he stopped me from doing something stupid. She settled into a loveseat, pulling her legs up to her chest, back against the armrest, and head leaning against the back of the loveseat as she stared into the fire.
She could feel herself begin to relax, the back of the loveseat a sentinel between her and the rest of the hotel. The only thing anyone could probably see was the very top of her head, which was enough for someone to notice her when it was time for the group activity. But for now, for just a few minutes, she just needed to rest and think. Or preferably just rest, since her mind had already tortured her enough for a while.
She heard the other guests and staff wander into the lobby behind her, mingling in groups, but she kept her eyes trained on the flames as they jumped and licked at the air. She remembered being a child and staring into the fire for hours, the one thing other than reading that could keep her sitting in one place quietly for any length of time. The way it seemed to dance, bursting into life from the embers and wood, which glowed and pulsed like beating hearts, mesmerized her. She did suffer some minor burns due to a firework malfunction in her teens, but even then, when her adoration had been tinted with fear for several years, controlled fires still quieted her mind. She let the flames hypnotize her back into a steady calm, releasing the tension from her short, yet chaotic morning.
"Heya, kid! Whatcha doin' all by ya lonesome ove' here?"
She glanced up at Angel Dust, who was leaning casually on the other side of the loveseat. He looked much better than yesterday, rested and more relaxed. She was a bit surprised that he wasn't in her personal space, being the flirt he was (in the show), but also, she was grateful. Men were... difficult for her to accept in her bubble, afterall, and as much as he had always been her favorite comfort character for years, he was still very much a man.
She smiled at him softly. "Oh, just relaxing and watching the fire dance. You are welcome to join me, if you would like." She motioned for him to sit on the loveseat with her, even though there were other seats close by. But logically, if he sat there, no one else would, so it was the best option. Yeah, that’s the only reason.
Angel raised an eyebrow at her as he sat down, mirroring her position. "The fire dances?" He looked from the fire to her, skepticism on his face. It was clear he was thinking she was making it up or something, and honestly, it was really endearing for some reason. He just looked so cute. Stop fangirling, he’s a grown man, this is reality now, stop thinking of him as an adorable cinnamon roll, that is so fucking creepy!
She laughed softly. "Go ahead and watch it for a minute, I guarantee you will see it, now that you are looking for it."
He turned and stared at the fire for a few minutes before he chuckled softly. "Well, I'll be damned." His voice was deeper, dropping the fake persona he always put up, and his body seemed less tense for a moment, a gentle smile on his face as he watched the flames. She smiled and turned back to the flames too. They sat in comfortable silence for several long minutes, and she felt the most at peace she had been in… a very long time.
"Okay, everyone! Time for our activity, so gather around!" Charlie's peppy voice cut through the lobby, and Angel groaned, getting up to participate. She watched him stretch and yawn, as though coming out of a nap, even though she knew he had been awake. But she understood the feeling, the call of the flames was a powerful thing. He smiled at Stitches, offering her a hand.
"Ya comin', or would ya like to sit this one out and enjoy the rest of the performance?" he asked, nodding towards the fire, his persona back in place. However, his eyes were still soft and kind towards her, and his smile was genuine.
Stitches hesitated for a moment, the thought of hiding here quite pleasant, before smiling and taking his hand. It felt comfortable, no strange crawling feeling from where their skin met, no reaction to her usual trigger. Huh, well, I’ll be damned. She shook her head and filed that away for later, rising to her feet, but not letting go of Angel’s hand.
"Nah, wouldn't be a good impression to skip out on my first day." She winked at him, and let him lead her back to the center of the lobby where everyone was gathering.
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"Alright, everyone!" Charlie clapped her hands to get everyone's attention, now that the group had gathered. Her dad and Alastor were at the bar, Alastor standing in one corner and her dad perched on the bar stool as far away from him as possible, sipping a box of apple juice and giving her a thumbs up of encouragement. Neither of them ever really joined the activities, but their presence was a huge support, and they both would step in from time to time when a sinner got a little... problematic. The rest of the staff, Cherri, and the half dozen other guests who had elected to participate were waiting for her to continue.
"Okay, before we begin, I wanted to introduce our newest addition to the guest list, Stitches!" she motioned over to her, and Stitches waved shyly. "She just arrived in Hell yesterday, so please be positive and welcoming as she adjusts to her afterlife." Stitches looked uncomfortable with the attention, so Charlie charged ahead, quickly regaining the spotlight.
"Anywaaaaay, I thought we could start this morning with trust falls!" -a collective groan rumbled through the lobby- "I know, they aren't your favorite, but it's a great warmup activity for Stitches, and it's super easy. Just stand on this coffee table, tell the group something about yourself, whatever you feel comfortable sharing that you normally wouldn't, preferably, and then close your eyes and fall backward! The group will catch you, and then we'll go to the next person. Everyone understands?"
More grumbles followed, but eventually, everyone got up to participate. Nifty, to absolutely no one's surprise, insisted on going first. She clambered onto the short table, shouted "BAD BOYS ARE THE BEST!" and threw herself face-first into the group, Angel catching her. She giggled maniacally, squirmed out of Angel's grasp, then scampered back up the table where she screamed "BAD GIRLS ARE THE BEST", repeating her jump into the group, this time being caught by Cherri. However, instead of repeating the cycle, she snuggled into Cherri, giggling, before spying a bug dart across the floor and sprinting after it with her large sewing needle.
Everyone laughed and it helped ease everyone into the activity, with little urging being needed to keep the line moving. From there, it went much smoother, each person taking turns as they slowly rotated through everyone. Some were a bit flippant, but a few actually opened up a little, Cherri being the most surprising when she said "I miss Sir Pentious". It was a beautiful moment, and the staff hugged Cherri immediately after, this being a huge step for her. Finally, the only person who hadn't gone was Stitches.
"Alright, Stitches, it's your turn!" Charlie called to her, smiling as she motioned for her to get on the coffee table. But Stitches just looked from her to the coffee table, around the group, then back at her. Is she nervous?
Stitches looked from Charlie to the table and back again. "Um..."
"I know it's kind of scary the first time..." Charlie smiled at her kindly.
"Um, no, that's not it, I…” She swallowed thickly, and Charlie faintly heard alarm bells ringing in her head. The rag doll cleared her throat, looking at her feet, her right hand picking at the skin on her left arm. “...Well, would it be alright if I decided who caught me?" Stitches looked at her pensively, her eyes showing just a bit of panic. Charlie opened her mouth to reassure her, but-
"What, we not all good enough for you, miss diva?" one of the more gruff guests muttered. “Afraid we won’t catch you? You secretly made of porcelain under that burlap sack?” He was a newer arrival to the Hotel, maybe here for only a week or so, and he seemed to have a chip on his shoulder. Which, this was Hell, so it wasn’t uncommon, to be fair.
Stitches shifted uncomfortably, keeping her gaze away from everyone. Angel was glaring at the gruff Sinner, a few feet away from where Stitches was standing. "It's... It's not that. I just don't react well to... certain people touching me."
Everyone stared at her for a moment, and suddenly it clicked in Charlie's brain. Stitches had been very careful when helping catch people during the trust falls, standing next to only certain people, gingerly side-stepping out of the way when certain people fell back, and nimbly dodging certain people who tried to move too close to her. Why didn’t I see it before!?!
All of them had been male.
"Oh! No worries at all, Stitches! Who would you be comfortable catching you?" She smiled at her kindly as Stitches looked up, and hoped that the woman was able to see that she understood what she was trying to convey. It must have worked, because she stopped picking her arm and sighed in relief.
Stitches' face relaxed a bit, and she gave her a grateful smile. "Um, I am not too picky, I just... Um… Maybe you and-"
"Well, then anyone should be able to catch you if you aren’t ‘too picky!" the gruff demon exclaimed grabbing Stitches' arm. "You’re wasting our time! Just get this over with, stupid bitch!"
In the span of a second, multiple things happened at once, before Charlie had a chance to react. First, Stitches froze, her eyes going from calm and guarded to absolutely terrified. Second, Angel lunged forward and put himself between the gruff guy and Stitches, all of his arms out and spread in a protective wall. This forced the guy to stumble back a step in. Third, her dad flew across the room and punched the guy, sending him flying against the opposite wall, hard enough to leave an impression in it from the impact. And lastly, Alastor's shadows wrapped around the guy, pinning him where he impacted, and the Radio Demon’s static reverberating around the room.
"How FUCKING dare you?" Dad roared, slowly walking toward him, eyes red, but otherwise still himself… for now. "She obviously was uncomfortable, and you still grab at her, like she's property?"
"S-she was being a prima donna and holding everything up!" the sinner spat out. He was struggling against the shadowy tendrils, but they only became tighter, until he was forced to just wait there helplessly, facing the full wrath of the King of Hell. All six of his wings were out now, and his demonic features were slowly materializing. He looked intimidating, even to her; he rarely was this furious.
"She made one request, a very simple request!” The Devil seethed. “If it 'inconvenienced you' for the whole damn minute, too FUCKING bad! You will wait patiently." Dad glared at the demon and grabbed the front of his shirt. "You will not treat a woman like that in my presence again, am I clear?" The demon opened his mouth to protest, and Dad shook him roughly. "AM I CLEAR!?!"
The demon looked down and nodded. Dad let go as his demonic features faded, and Alastor's shadows let him go with an ungraceful thump. The guy scrambled to his feet and rushed out of the room, grumbling about "women" and “Chads” as he went. Dad turned back to Charlie, and they met each other's eyes for a moment. He looked apologetic, but she smiled her forgiveness, feeling it was justified this time. That guy and I will need to have a serious conversation. He can’t treat fellow guests like that.
Dad then looked past her and his face fell. Worried and confused, she followed his gaze, immediately rushing forward when she saw what he did:
Stitches was having a panic attack.