~Angel Dust's point of view~

I blinked awake slowly. Alastor was gone from his place on the bed, as to be expected at this-it's four in the morning.

He's never ever up before four thirty.

Shit.

I shot off the bed and set to work trying to find Alastor, checking all of the house with a flashlight in hand and one of Al's jackets wrapped tightly around me. I gently called out his name in every room in the house except for the ones with our kids in them. I checked our property carefully.

He was simply gone.

I went back up to our bedroom to investigate.

To my horror, there was signs of struggle: claw marks in the carpet, clothes strewn about, the mirror knocked off the dresser, clear claw marks on the legs of all our furniture, claw marks on the window sill, and broken glass.

To my great relief, there was barely any blood, only a little accompanying the claw marks, as though his claws were nearly ripped from skin, so he was mostly in one piece wherever he was.

I sat on my bed, tears brimming in my eyes as I worried about my husband.

Fat Nuggets trotted lightly up to me, snorting inquiringly as he settled in my lap.

"Hi, baby." I greeted the little pig, sniffling loudly. "It's Al. He's got me worried. Someone took my Alastor." I sobbed, hugging Fat Nuggets firmly. I sat there, bawling my eyes out for several minutes.

Mercy appeared in my doorway, holding a flashlight with concern in her wide red eyes as tears streamed down her face.

"What happened?" She asked.

"What happened to you should be the question." I snapped, gesturing the tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Your emotions happened. They hit me like that train hit that demon the other day." Mercy sighed. "Now. Spill. Where's Dad at this unholy hour?"

"Someone took him. I don't know who, but he put up a fight without waking me somehow." I cried.

"Whoa there, you're more hormonally imbalanced than Dad was while pregnant with Stitches. Calm down." She soothed, placing a hand on my forehead. "Who would steal Dad?"

"Mimzy...possibly Lucifer if he wants to start something out of boredom...my dad, who's thoroughly dead...God herself maybe." I sniffled.

"Okay, that's a good list. Listen, he is a stubborn half-black, half-Irish demon with a lot of power in him, he can fend for himself while we try to find him." Mercy assured me, pulling her phone out of her sweatpants elastic and dialing a number. "Hey, Grandpa. Sorry to call at such an hour, but I have bad news. Do you want to hear it?...Dad got kidnapped somehow...yes, you heard me right: your son, Alastor, my dad, the Almighty Radio Demon got kidnapped. No, Pops was not conscious when it happened if that's what you were about to ask. Okay. Thanks. Bye."

"This is a bad dream. I just need to wake up and it will all be over." I said to myself, trying to get myself to wake up.

"Sorry, Anthony, this is not a goddamn dream, someone overpowered Dad." Mercy snapped, slapping me firmly.