What if Alastor does betray Charlie and the crew in the end- against his will? Him walking over towards the enemy's side as they call his name while all eyes are on him. Horrified. Betrayed. Angry.
the radio demon would just smile, keep up the grin. Plaster it on his face. Put on a show. Laugh at the disbelief in everyone's faces. He'd lie if he said it didn't hurt his face so much.
He'd tell himself that he never cared about them. That he never once thought of them as anything but pawns. That they should've seen this coming because his heart stopped beating a long time ago, his soul was jaded, and his humanity rotten.
But the heaviness in his chest and the trembling of his hands say otherwise. The smile that didn't reach his eyes told a different story. All the times he would cook them his special Jambalaya, or the the times he would join in their silly exercises, or pull an all nighter with them on game nights, or be there just as someone to listen when someone bothered them (they'd be dead tomorrow)- all these memories - was it all really just for show? And it would dawn on him, like a cruel spotlight exposing the darkest corners of his dead, black heart.
Maybe he did care for them. loved them as a family. Wanted what was best for them. Wished he could be with them. Be part of their family
And he hated himself for that. Because it's too late. He's chosen his side and broke their hearts. He could only stand in the side as everyone else was fighting for their side. He felt horrible. A traitor. A ghost.
So, maybe -as one last act of redemption, one last attempt to plea for forgiveness, to let them know that he did care, that he did love them - at the final battle - When all seemed lost - he sacrifices himself. By fighting for them. Going against his master. Risking his own life - not because he was told so- but because he wanted to. For them.
Ignoring the anguish that burned in him as he took hit after hit as he desperately tries to stop his master before they could hurt his friends. His family. Ignoring their shouts of worry, shouts of pleas for him to stop. For him to step back. For him to let them help him.
But he doesn't let them because they've done so much already. They've let him in, loved him, and accepted him, and he never thought he'd ever experience that again
And just like that - he's on the ground. Bleeding, gasping for air, dying. Static radio thick in the air. Him barely able to register the blurry figures hovering over him. Muffled voices that made his head ring. The pain numbing his body. Everything was so much at the same time.
But he felt it, a hand on his cheek, a trembling, soft, gentle, and kind touch. And for a while, his vision cleared and he could see her. Charlie. Crying. Her lips moving as she said something he didn't quite catch. He hated seeing her like this and it pained him to be the very reason why
And someone else is there, one just like Charlie's - Lucifer, his hand on his daughter's shoulder. Alastor hated appreciated the much concern on his face. appreciation and respect glinting in his eyes.
Alastor was too broken to be fixed. Too shattered to be put back together. And too close to the gates of death to be brought back down again. And it was alright. The only regret was not being able to spend more hellish days with the crew. But other than that? He's happy. And he wished them happiness too.
And so, with all the strength he could muster, he moved his shaking, bloodied up hand, tiringly to his own cheek, just above Charlie's hand, trying to tell her that it's alright. He's alright. It's gonna be okay.
"Smile, my dear." He rasps out, his throat scratched and his lungs tight. "You're never fully dressed without one."
The air went silent, for the static was gone. the great Alastor altruist died for his friends. This is how it ended.
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