With the Olympic torch extinguished in Paris, all eyes are turning to Los Angeles for the 2028 Olympics.
The host city has promised that the next Summer Games will be “car-free.”
For people who know Los Angeles, this seems overly optimistic. The car remains king in LA, despite growing public transit options.
When LA hosted the Games in 1932, it had an extensive public transportation system, with buses and an extensive network of electric streetcars. Today, the trolleys are long gone; riders say city buses don’t come on schedule, and bus stops are dirty. What happened?
This question fascinates me because I am a business professor who studies why society abandons and then sometimes returns to certain technologies, such as vinyl records, landline phones, and metal coins. The demise of electric streetcars in Los Angeles and attempts to bring them back today vividly demonstrate the costs and challenges of such revivals.
Riding the Red and Yellow Cars
Transportation is a critical priority in any city, but especially so in Los Angeles, which has been a sprawling metropolis from the start.
In the early 1900s, railroad magnate Henry Huntington, who owned vast tracts of land around LA, started subdividing his holdings into small plots and building homes. In order to attract buyers, he also built a trolley system that whisked residents from outlying areas to jobs and shopping downtown.
By the 1930s, Los Angeles had a vibrant public transportation network, with over 1,000 miles of electric streetcar routes, operated by two companies: Pacific Electric Railway, with its “Red Cars,” and Los Angeles Railway, with its “Yellow Cars.”
The system wasn’t perfect by any means. Many people felt that streetcars were inconvenient and also unhealthy when they were jammed with riders. Moreover, streetcars were slow because they had to share the road with automobiles. As auto usage climbed and roads became congested, travel times increased.
Nonetheless, many Angelenos rode the streetcars—especially during World War II, when gasoline was rationed and automobile plants shifted to producing military vehicles.
Demise of Public Transit
The end of the war marked the end of the line for streetcars. The war effort had transformed oil, tire, and car companies into behemoths, and these industries needed new buyers for goods from the massive factories they had built for military production. Civilians and returning soldiers were tired of rationing and war privations, and they wanted to spend money on goods such as cars.
After years of heavy usage during the war, Los Angeles’ streetcar system needed an expensive capital upgrade. But in the mid-1940s, most of the system was sold to a company called National City Lines, which was partly owned by the carmaker General Motors, the oil companies Standard Oil of California and Phillips Petroleum, and the Firestone tire company.
These powerful forces had no incentive to maintain or improve the old electric streetcar system. National City ripped up tracks and replaced the streetcars with buses that were built by General Motors, used Firestone tires, and ran on gasoline.
There is a long-running academic debate over whether self-serving corporate interests purposely killed LA’s streetcar system. Some researchers argue that the system would have died on its own, like many other streetcar networks around the world.
The controversy even spilled over into pop culture in the 1988 movie Who Framed Roger Rabbit, which came down firmly on the conspiracy side.
What’s undisputed is that, starting in the mid-1940s, powerful social forces transformed Los Angeles so that commuters had only two choices: drive or take a public bus. As a result, LA became so choked with traffic that it often took hours to cross the city.
In 1990, the Los Angeles Times reported that people were putting refrigerators, desks, and televisions in their cars to cope with getting stuck in horrendous traffic. A swath of movies, from Falling Down to Clueless to La La Land, have featured the next-level challenge of driving in LA.
Traffic was also a concern when LA hosted the 1984 Summer Games, but the Games went off smoothly. Organizers convinced over 1 million people to ride buses, and they got many trucks to drive during off-peak hours. The 2028 games, however, will have roughly 50 percent more athletes competing, which means thousands more coaches, family, friends, and spectators. So simply dusting off plans from 40 years ago won’t work.
Olympic Transportation Plans
Today, Los Angeles is slowly rebuilding a more robust public transportation system. In addition to buses, it now has four light-rail lines—the new name for electric streetcars—and two subways. Many follow the same routes that electric trolleys once traveled. Rebuilding this network is costing the public billions, since the old system was completely dismantled.
Three key improvements are planned for the Olympics. First, LA’s airport terminals will be connected to the rail system. Second, the Los Angeles organizing committee is planning heavily on using buses to move people. It will do this by reassigning some lanes away from cars and making them available for 3,000 more buses, which will be borrowed from other locales.
Finally, there are plans to permanently increase bicycle lanes around the city. However, one major initiative, a bike path along the Los Angeles River, is still under an environmental review that may not be completed by 2028.
Car-Free for 17 Days
I expect that organizers will pull off a car-free Olympics, simply by making driving and parking conditions so awful during the Games that people are forced to take public transportation to sports venues around the city. After the Games end, however, most of LA is likely to quickly revert to its car-centric ways.
As Casey Wasserman, chair of the LA 2028 organizing committee, recently put it: “The unique thing about Olympic Games is for 17 days you can fix a lot of problems when you can set the rules—for traffic, for fans, for commerce—than you do on a normal day in Los Angeles.”
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Demon-to-Demon Ch.3/5: Ha//zbin Ho/tel
Warnings: Contagion and mess (a lot more mess this time)
Word count: 3,763
Chapter 3 is finally finished! Two more to go (at least). I love the idea of Al/ast/or losing his inhibitions when he's feverish, I just think it'd be neat, so that's explored a bit in this chapter.
This is kind of a chill interlude in between the "plot", I'm excited because next chapter I get to write Ro/sie... anyways, I hope you enjoy! ^^
“SnFf! Good Mbordi’g Pentagramb City- SnFF!- I’b Katie Killjoyy-Yiihh’Shewww! Ih’kshew!... bringi’g you your day seven update on what experts are calli’g ‘The Red Spread’... the mbysterious viral infectio’d has infected about 78% of the city, with no sign of stoppi’g… more on the spread when we return!”
“Can’t believe they’re still mbakin’ Killjoy work while she’s sick- snff!” Angel remarked from his spot on the sofa, massaging his sinuses with his fingertips.
“I can’t believe that more than three quarters of the Pentagram have got whatever the hell this is,” Husk added, scrubbing the underside of his nose with the back of his hand.
“Do we hafta watch the news every morning?” Niffty groaned from her nest of blankets on the floor in front of the sofa, “They’re showing a five hour marathon of beheading footage in thirty minutes.”
Husk rolled his eyes, “You kndow the rules- snff- we cast a vote every time we flip channels, you want the executioner network to win, you gotta make a solid argument,” he explained from his position draped across Angel’s lap, his eyes irritated and watery from the congestion packed into his head with noplace to go.
“That’s no fair, Alastor’s vote shouldn’t count, he doesn’t even know what’s going on!” Niffty argued, folding her arms.
“He does- HrR’SCHOOO!... Fuck!- He does, watch,” Husk argued back, snapping his fingers to get Alastor’s attention from his dazed position in his armchair, “Alastor…Earth to Alastor!”
Alastor redirected a glassy eye in Husk’s direction, feverish blotches on both of his cheeks, “Hmm?” he asked, rubbing his nose with his handkerchief.
“Next flip, what’re you voting for?” Husk asked, smiling as he watched Alastor thinking in real time, the metaphorical cogs in his head overheated and sticky.
Alastor sniffled, staring at Husk for a moment, “Uhb… snfF!...He-eh’KSHIEW! Hhn’Kxxhht!... what were we talki’g about again?” he asked, blowing his nose.
“We’re changin’ the channel, Smiles, whadda you wanna watch?” Angel asked, pulling a thermometer off of the arm of the sofa and sliding it under his tongue.
Alastor blinked, “Ndature documentaries,” he giggled deliriously, scrubbing under his nostrils with a single finger in an attempt to snuff out a tickle in his sinuses that was threatening to morph into a sneezing fit, “The really gruesombe ondes- snrk!”
“See? He’s-” Husk paused to cough, “-perfectly conscious, isn’t that right, Alastor?” he asked.
“What’s right?” Alastor asked, blowing his nose again, “Ehhh’TShewww! Heh’KSHEW! Heh’tschiewww! Hh’Ktshhiew!”
“Don’t worry about it,” Husk laughed, his laugh quickly turning into a harsh, raspy cough, “Fuck, that hurts.”
Angel reached over, rubbing Husk’s chest and attempting to quell the rumble of congestion in his lungs with a few pats, “Mmph,” he hummed in consolation, pulling the thermometer out when it began to beep.
“Thanks,” Husk replied breathlessly, attempting to shoot a glance at the thermometer, “What’s the verdict?”
Angel sighed, massaging his temples, “I’ve stih…h-hihh…Ih-A’KSHHHEW! ‘Kshhew! ‘KSCHUHHH!” he said, nearly folding in half from his sneezing fit, “Still got a fever… damn thi’g won’t budge… 102.”
Husk sighed, “Damn shame… mby turn, hand it over,” he said, taking the thermometer and sliding it under his tongue, purring as he patiently waited for it to beep, “102.”
“My turn! My turn!” Niffty exclaimed from her nest of blankets, getting a hold of the thermometer and holding it under her tongue, squinting at the reading on the small screen with her eye, “101.”
“Space Cadet, wakey-wakey- snff!- your turn to check your temperature,” Angel croaked from his spot on the sofa, flicking a bottle cap at Alastor to snap him out of his febrile trance.
“Hmm? Wha? Oh…” Alastor mumbled, wincing as he placed the ear thermometer into his left ear, shooting a quick glance at the viewing window after it beeped, “103 and- snff!...hH’KZzschiewww!- seven tenths.”
Angel and Husk shot one another a knowing look, but shortly after, Angel hugged Husk tightly, shivering in his loose tank top and baggy pajama shorts.
“I’mb so fucking cold… dammit…” Angel whispered, his teeth chattering as he nuzzled up close to Husk, “You’re such a good radiator, but I’mb still freezi’g…Snfff-snff!”
“That’s cause you aren’t actually cold,” Husk replied, feeling the heat radiating from Angel’s body, “It’s just the fever.”
“This is bullshit,” Angel complained, folding his arms before going back to cuddling Husk, flipping channels until a boring rerun of a reality TV show came on.
“Hi guys,” Charlie greeted upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, Vaggie following close behind with KeeKee in her arms, “Feeling any better?”
Angel blew his “nose” into a tissue, tossing the soggy paper into the trash can next to the sofa, “Nope,” he replied, massaging his sinuses with his fingertips, “Huhh…H-hah…Ah… AH’TSHHHIEWW! Ah’kShewww! HAH’KSCHIEWWW!”
Husk and Niffty shook their heads in silence.
Alastor rubbed his eyes with both fists, before blinking drowsily in Charlie’s direction and greeting her with an eager wave, giggling, “When I hold mby hand in front of you, you disappear,” he chuckled, turning to smother a barking cough into his sleeve.
Charlie winced, shooting Husk a knowing look, “Fever?”
“Fever,” Husk replied.
“It’s kickin’ his ass, watch this,” Angel said, struggling to contain his hoarse laughter, “Alastor, shut your eyes.”
Alastor complied.
“What color are your pants?” Angel asked, watching Alastor tilt his head down to look at his maroon flannel pajama pants, but still holding his eyes shut.
“Black?” Alastor replied, feeling around in his man-made darkness for his pajama pants, “Black.”
“Oh my gosh,” Charlie chuckled, gently scratching behind Alastor’s ears, “Open your eyes, Alastor.”
Alastor complied, swaying in his armchair until he saw KeeKee strolling past, scooping her into his arms and nuzzling his face against her soft fur, “So soft,” he whispered.
“Honestly, I’d say to stop toying with Alastor while he’s delirious, but being able to fuck with one of the Pentagram’s cruelest overlords with no consequences is kinda sweet,” Vaggie said, trying not to laugh as she walked over to Alastor’s armchair and poked his nose.
“Hh’Kzzhshttt! HH’KShheww! HH’KSHHHEW! Hnk’TSHHIEW!...Hh’KSzxhhtt!” Alastor held up a hand in front of his nose and mouth, nearly paralyzed by the sudden fit, his eyes beginning to water, “Snfff! Snff-SNFF! Uch…”
Vaggie struggled to contain her amusement until Alastor loudly blew his nose into his handkerchief, the wetness of the sound making her wince from disgust, “That’s so gross…” she whispered.
Alastor brushed off Vaggie’s comment with the flick of a stuffy ear, readjusting himself in his seat and pulling his blanket tighter around his shoulders, “Well excuse mbe,” he scoffed, pinching the friction-reddened underside of his nose between two fingers in an attempt to stifle a second sneezing fit, “Hh’ktshh! Hhn’ktsh! Hh’kzhht! HHN’kshh!”
“Bless you,” Charlie said, “Hopefully you guys will start feeling better soon, this thing can’t last that long.”
“I hope so,” Husk sighed, “I mbiss breathin’ through mby ndose.”
Husk’s garbled consonants made Charlie wince.
“I wish there was something I could do to help,” Charlie sighed, leaning against the back of the sofa.
“Oh! I know! I know! I can help!” Niffty cheered, turning to cough into her elbow after raising her voice strained her sore throat, “I used to do this all the time when I was alive! Be right back!”
Before Charlie could open her mouth to object, Niffty had vanished into the kitchen and returned with four mugs and three medium-sized towels, each of the mugs releasing tendrils of steam into the air.
“I’d get bags of tea that weren’t really good to drink but smelled really strong, and I’d make a cup, and put the towel over my head to breathe in the steam, it works great!” Niffty explained, returning to the comfort of her blanket nest with her own mug of hot tea, electing to sip from it instead.
Husk shrugged, “I’ll try adythi’g ondce..snrkk!” he croaked, pulling the towel over his head and holding the mug of fragrant tea close to his face as he became surrounded by steam.
Angel followed Husk’s lead, hoping to relieve the massive backup in his puffy sinuses.
Alastor silently followed suit, rolling his eyes briefly when the towel snagged on his antlers, forcing him to neaten it out.
A few minutes passed, and Charlie- who had left the room to feed Fat Nuggets and KeeKee- returned to her spot leaning against the back of the sofa, “So… how do you know if it works?” she asked.
“You’ll see,” Niffty replied, swallowing the last sip of her tea and lying down on her side to relax in her pile of blankets, smothering a cough into her wrist and listening to Angel, Husk, and Alastor’s sniffles as they grew looser and looser.
“HrR’SCHHUHHH! Huh’KSHOOO! Hh’TSHHHOO! Huh’TSCHOO! Hnk’TCHOO! HUH’KSHHHUHH! Hnk’TSHHHEW!” Husk sneezed, each sneeze growing wetter and wetter as the congestion in his sinuses got looser.
“Heh’Kshhhew! Hnk’SHHHEW! Hnk’Tshhiew! HEH’KXHHT! Hnk’TSHH! Heh’TSHHIEW! Hnk’TshhhiEW! He-Eh’kshhhiewww!” Alastor followed suit, struggling to catch his breath between sneezes from underneath the towel.
“A-ahh…H-hah…HAH’TSHIEW! Hah’tshew! Hah’kshhiew! Ah’kshhieww! Hah’TshhhiEW! Ah…AH’KTSHHHIEW!” Angel sneezed.
“Ohhhh, that’s how,” Charlie said with an amused smile.
Husk peeled off his towel to reveal his flushed face, damp fur, and the continuous trail of watery mess trickling from his adorable feline nose, a trail that he attempted to stop with a few watery sniffles, to no avail.
“Holy shit,” Husk muttered, his voice hoarse from the sneezing fit scraping his raw throat, as he dragged the back of his hand under his nostrils, “That felt great, I can breathe…but I can’t stop sne-eezing-Hnk’Tshoo! Hnk’Tschuhh!”
“Bless you,” Charlie giggled, plucking two tissues out of the box on the arm of the sofa and handing them to Husk, who in turn used them to wipe off his hands and the underside of his nose before soaking the tissues with one gurgling blow, “Jeez, you were really stuffed up.”
“Not anymore, shit,” Husk said with a relieved sigh, wrapping a finger in a few tissues and gently cleaning the inside of his fluffy ears, “Even cleaned out my ears.”
“It can get in your ears?!” Charlie inquired, leaning over the sofa and staring at Husk’s ears intently as they twitched.
“Mmhm, it’s why I’m damn lucky I don’t have any… a-ah…AH’KTSHEW! Ah’kshhew! Ah’kshhiew!...” Angel commented, pulling off his towel and finger-combing his moisture-dampened locks to fluff them back up, wincing at the spray coating the fur on his hands, “Euch… I need a shower after that.”
Angel stood up, swaying a bit on his feet, “I’ll be right ba-ah…a-AH’KSHHIEW! ‘Kshhew! ‘KSHEW!...snff! I’ll be right back…” he said, cautiously wandering up the steps and disappearing down a hallway.
Alastor’s watery sniffling and frustrated grunts made Husk and Charlie turn to face him, the towel still draped over his head.
“Hh’KZXHHT! Hhnk’Tshhiew! Hhk’TSHHIEW! Heh’KSHEWW! Hhn’KzZsschiew!” Alastor’s sneezing continued, his desperate gasps in between fits riddled with the low rumble of congestion in his lungs.
“Uhm… Alastor, you can take it off if the smell is too much,” Charlie proposed, watching The Radio Demon doubled over in his chair, completely at the mercy of his sinuses.
“I ca-ahh.. Hh’KSCHIEW! Hhn’KSHHUH!... they’re st-uhh… s-stuck on my aahn- HEH’KSHHIEW! Heh’KSHewww!- antlers,” Alastor struggled, punctuating his sentence with a productive-sounding cough, his voice dripping with frustration and embarrassment at his current predicament.
‘Brilliant, Alastor, just brilliant, you’re writhing like a simple-minded cat with its head stuck in a paper bag’
Charlie reached over, pulling the towel off of Alastor’s head, gently pulling away the segments of towel caught on his antlers, “There we go,” she said, smiling at her triumph.
Alastor opened his mouth to utter his reluctant thanks, but quickly held a miraculously-clean handkerchief to his mouth instead, coughing as the crackling congestion in his chest inched its way up his throat. His fever-warm cheeks burned red-hot with embarrassment as he spat something into the red cloth before leaning back into his armchair to catch his breath.
“That sounded…uhh…” Charlie began, wringing her hands and sheepishly looking away out of disgust.
“Nasty,” Husk practically gagged.
“I second that!” Vaggie called from the other room.
“Cool! I wanna see, Alastor, lemme see!” Niffty pleaded, speed-crawling over to Alastor’s feet and sneaking a peek of the soiled handkerchief, “Woah…”
“That’s quite enough,” Alastor scoffed, silencing another wet cough behind clenched teeth, “I’m fine… I’d prefer if we could pretend that didn’t happen.”
Husk blinked, noticing the stiffness in Alastor’s smile and the embarrassment in his watery eyes, shooting his boss a knowing smirk, “I think somebody’s fever finally went down,” he chuckled, “Don’t worry, boss, you didn’t do anything too embarrassing.”
“I can strangle you to death with one hand, and I will not hesitate to do so,” Alastor hissed, still struggling to fight back his cough, eventually relenting and holding his handkerchief back up to his mouth.
“Think you’re a bit too busy stranglin’ yourself,” Husk teased, knowing that Alastor’s coughing fit would keep him from reacting violently to Husk’s sass.
Alastor spat another load of sputum into his handkerchief and took a desperate inhale, a relieved grin flashing on his face when said inhale wasn’t accompanied by a crackle of more congestion, “I’m finished,” he panted, squeezing his soiled handkerchief in one hand as it vanished into the ether by way of its own shadow.
Charlie leaned over and quietly popped the thermometer into Alastor’s ear, getting a quick reading, and pulling it away, “102, it did go down! Are you feeling any better?” she asked.
“Quite the opposite, actually,” Alastor grumbled, running a clean handkerchief under his nose to wipe away the mess from his sneezing fit, “Especially since I’m in my right mind again.”
“Damn shame,” Husk laughed from his spot on the sofa, ducking when Alastor threw his miraculously-empty mug at Husk’s head.
“This is humiliating,” Alastor grumbled, covering his eyes with both hands and rolling onto his side in his armchair, pulling his blanket tighter around his frame.
“Y’know, Alastor, maybe you’d be more comfortable if you had room to stretch your legs,” Charlie offered, “Since Cherri’s not here, you could take the loveseat on the opposite side and Niffty could take the armchair.”
“I’m perfectly fine where I am, thank you,” Alastor replied, trying and failing to suppress a shiver.
“Are you sure?” Charlie asked, shooting Alastor a compassionate smile, which finally got him to relent.
“If you insist,” Alastor sighed, getting out of his chair and walking over to the loveseat on the opposite side of the sofa , lying down and completely wrapping his body in his blanket.
“There you go, doesn’t that feel better?” Charlie asked, draping a second blanket over Alastor’s reclined form.
“Only physically,” Alastor replied, his teeth chattering slightly as he struggled to conceal the pain in his eyes, “Thank you.”
“No problem… are you okay?” Charlie asked as she watched Alastor continue to shiver in spite of the blankets.
Alastor’s shivering calmed down, and his eyes noticeably glazed over again, looking glassy and distant as his gaze lost focus and his smile became more toothless and dopey. Charlie noticed the deep flush in Alastor’s cheeks, his heavy breathing, and the sweat trickling down his face from his hairline.
“I’m fine… Hh’Kshew!...pardon me,” Alastor mumbled, readjusting himself under his blankets. The Radio Demon stared at Charlie for a moment, scanning her with his glossy eyes before shooting her a puzzling smile, “Your hair is so pretty… it’s like a tied up hay bale…” he giggled.
“Oh… thank you?” Charlie replied, raising an eyebrow and cautiously reaching down to press the back of her hand against Alastor’s forehead.
“Aaaand he’s gone again,” Husk announced, “That didn’t last long.”
“He’s burning up… I didn’t expect his fever to go back up so fast,” Charlie said, overwhelmed with concern as she took Alastor’s temperature with the ear thermometer, “104… I’m going to go see if we have some medicine somewhere.”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t roll off the loveseat and hurt himself ‘till you get back,” Husk said, turning away briefly to blow his nose before focusing his attention on Alastor’s relaxed but loopy form.
“Thank you,” Charlie replied, leaving the room and leaving Husk alone with his fever-plagued boss. Niffty was still in the parlor, but she had fallen asleep after cozying up in her nest of blankets, and snored quietly on the floor, meaning that Husk had no one but Alastor to talk to.
“Husker,” Alastor said in an almost teasing voice, shooting Husk a drowsy grin and staring at him with his glassy, vacant eyes.
“What is it?” Husk asked, twitching his sensitive nose in an attempt to stave off a sneeze, “HRR’SCHUHH!”
“H..-Hihh… How can you tell when an octopus egg is h-hahh…hatching?” Alastor asked, punctuating his sentence with a damp sniffle, wiping his irritated nose off with his handkerchief.
“I dunno Alastor, how?” Husk sighed, rolling his eyes.
“It starts Kraken…Hih’SHHHEW! Uch… Excuse mbe…snff!” Alastor said, laughing at his own horrible joke until his boisterous laughter turned into a hoarse cough.
“We’re not doin’ this, I’m not listenin’ to your stupid jokes,” Husk scoffed.
“Ohh, that’s no fair, I had so mbany I was ready to try out- Hih’KSHHEW! Hih’kshhiew!” Alastor complained, blowing his nose.
“Try ‘em out on Niffty when she wakes up,” Husk scoffed, smiling upon seeing Angel enter the parlor, now wearing a pair of pink velour pajamas adorned with black hearts and flowers, “How was your shower?”
“Great,” Angel sighed, collapsing onto the sofa and letting Husk settle back in his lap, “Steam really does the trick when you’re plugged up- snff… it’s incredible.”
“Glad it helped,” Husk replied softly, running his fingers through Angel’s clean fur.
“Husker,”
Husk rolled his eyes, “What is it now?”
“Mby throat hurts,” Alastor said, his watery eyes looking genuinely vulnerable… almost pitiful as he spoke.
“Mine does too, suck it up, maybe if you stopped runnin’ your mouth it wouldn’t hurt so much,” Husk said coldly, hurriedly holding a hand to his mouth to cover a violent cough and sighing with relief when Angel’s smooth hands began to rub his chest.
Alastor nodded, lying down in silence on the loveseat and sniffling occasionally, curling in on himself and clutching desperately at his blankets. His chapped, shiny nose and feverish cheeks looked aggressively dark compared to his hypersensitive, sweat-covered, and unnaturally pale skin, and the tears brimming in his glazed-over watery eyes overflowed, running down his cheeks.
‘I can’t believe you, we look ridiculous, pull yourself together…’
Alastor shuddered, whimpering quietly as his limbs ached and a violent pain radiated behind his eyes, cursing the razor-sharpness of his teeth that made them impossible to gnash and grind when he was in pain.
‘I can’t… I can’t control it… I’m so tired, and hot… and achy,’
Alastor’s frustrated thoughts only made the hot tears on his cheeks run faster as he attempted to hide them with a damp sniffle, to no avail. He simply shut his eyes and resigned himself to his fate.
“Oh my god,” Angel whispered, staring in awe at The Radio Demon’s hushed crying from the other side of the coffee table.
“He’s completely out of his mind, he’d jump out a window before he let anyone see him like this,” Husk muttered.
“I know this ain’t the point, but your raspy voice is kinda sexy,” Angel whispered back, snickering when Husk playfully punched him in the arm, “Okay, I earned that one.”
“Alright, it took a bit of digging, but I found some medicine-” Charlie paused upon re-entering the parlor, staring at Alastor’s shaking form and listening to his whimpering sobs, “-I’m sorry… is he?”
Angel and Husk nodded in silence.
Charlie gently pulled on one of Alastor’s ears, her heart dropping into her stomach when the gesture made Alastor let out a pained whine, before gently sticking the ear thermometer into the sensitive canal, “105…shit, why is this hitting him so hard?” she asked.
“I mean, all four of us feel like absolute shit… but Boss was always real skittish and secretive about germs…HUH’KshOO! Hh’KSHEWW!...fuck- SnFF!- might be kickin’ his ass cause he’s never been sick before, or at least not this sick,” Husk attempted to explain, dragging the back of his wrist under his nose before Angel handed him a tissue, “Thanks.”
“That makes sense… but it’s almost scary seeing him like this… Alastor? Alastor, wake up,” Charlie said, gently shaking Alastor to get his attention before pulling him into an upright position, “I’ve got something that should make your fever go down, okay?”
Alastor nodded, reaching out and cupping Charlie’s face in his left hand, stroking her cheek with his thumb as his ears twitched, “Charlie?” he asked, the vacant look in his red eyes making Charlie chew anxiously on her tongue, he looked awful.
“Yes, it’s me… can you see me?” Charlie asked, waving a hand in front of Alastor’s glassy eyes, her stomach twisting in knots when Alastor’s pupils didn’t follow her movement.
“Mhm,” Alastor nodded, turning away from Charlie to muffle a fit of barking coughs into his handkerchief, “I think so.”
“Okay, here, I’m going to pour the medicine for you, and you can take it when you’re ready,” Charlie said, pouring a dose of green fever reducer into the plastic measuring cup and handing it to Alastor, who surprisingly knocked it back almost immediately, licking his lips and flashing Charlie another delirious smile.
“It tastes like apples,” Alastor said, giggling as he flopped back into a reclined position, doubling over when his laughter quickly devolved into another coughing fit.
“I’m glad it tastes good, hopefully this makes you feel better,” Charlie said, gently massaging the back of Alastor’s head with her fingertips and turning to face Angel and Husk, “You guys want some?”
“I’m fine, I’ll let this shit take its course,” Husk replied, Angel nodding in agreement, “I’m goin’ to sleep.”
“Me too, Niffty’s got the right idea,” Angel sighed, getting comfortable on the sofa and uncrossing his legs, dozing off with Husk sleepily purring on top of him.
“Thank you, Charlie,” Alastor said, his voice a hoarse whisper, “I hope you don’t catch thi-ihh… Hih’kshew! Hih’kshiew!...this…snff-snff!”
“Of course,” Charlie replied, “I think I’ll be okay… you should rest… hopefully the medicine brings your fever down.”
Alastor yawned, lowering his eyelids and cozying up to his pillow, his congested snoring joining the noisy snores of Angel, Husk, and Niffty as Charlie brushed his hair away from his forehead.
“They’ll be better soon, it’ll be okay,” Charlie said to herself, getting one last look at her sickly friends before leaving the room to go chat with Vaggie, turning off the lights and lowering the volume on the TV before she tip-toed out of the parlor, leaving the quartet of patients in comfortable quiet darkness.
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