A Long-Awaited Conversation
A/N: This was initially a very different fic, but I'm not upset with how it turned out. A little bit of angst to make the day better, right?
It was a slow day. Neither you nor Alastor had much to do, so the two of you were sitting in your room, just enjoying each other’s presence. Jazz was playing quietly from an old radio by Alastor, who was doing some paperwork. You were typing away on your laptop, much to Alastor’s dismay. At least it wasn’t VoxTek, he had to give you that.
“Do tell me, my dear: when is a door not a door?” Alastor asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Oh dear,” you sighed, knowing exactly what was coming.
“Oh deer is right!” Alastor replied brightly. “Now then, when is a door not a door?”
Playfully rolling your eyes, you humored him. “I don’t know, Al. Do tell.”
You couldn’t deny the snort that the corny joke elicited. Alastor knew you enjoyed his jokes, but it had been a while since he’d gone out of his way to tell you any.
“Well, maybe you know why the cemetery was so popular.” Alastor’s grin was bright and genuine. Setting your laptop aside, you focused on him, smiling fondly.
“What a surprise! Didn’t you know people were just dying to get in?” Alastor proceeded to laugh at his own joke.
“I missed this,” you said after a moment. “You were gone for seven years. I really missed this.”
The lighthearted mood turned serious. Alastor’s smile lost some of its light. “My sabbatical was… necessary, dearest. I do regret that you were unable to accompany me.”
You noticed how the music was turned up a bit, masking the sound of your conversation. While it was doubtful anyone was listening in, you knew that Alastor wanted to cover his bases.
“You didn’t even tell me you were leaving.” There was a clear edge in your voice. “I had no idea where you were or how long you’d be gone…” The anger, frustration, and sadness started bubbling in your chest, ready to overflow, out of control. “Seven years, Alastor! Seven fucking years, I didn’t know where you were! I thought you’d left me, Al! Or worse, you died!”
“Dearest,” Alastor tried, but you cut him off.
“No, you don’t get to ‘dearest’ me,” you snapped. “I was alone for seven years. We’re partners, Al. We’re supposed to communicate with each other. I don’t even care what you were doing, I just wanted to know you were alright.” You paused. “Did it have to do with your deal?”
Alastor’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know about that?”
You matched his gaze. “Husk told me. He used to check on me weekly, you know. Thought I deserved to know. Which I did.”
“You don’t get to decide what I should and shouldn’t tell you,” Alastor said sharply.
“No, but you should tell me when you’re going to abandon me!” You were shouting now, standing and staring him down. “You have no idea how much I struggled while you were gone, how much I suffered! You are everything to me, Al! You are my fucking world, and what the hell was I supposed to do when my world up and vanishes?!”
The sound of static filled the room, Alastor gripping the armrests of his chair, leaving deep claw marks.
“I was a fucking mess! All your souls, all your territory, went to me! I’m not an Overlord, Al! I don’t want to be one! Having all that power scared the shit out of me! I was forced to do your job for you, a job I didn’t want to do!” Tears pricked at your eyes as the memories came back in full force. “And then you return suddenly, take up an impossible project, and just expect me to be okay with it? Well, I’m not okay with it! You haven’t been the same since you returned and you won’t fucking talk to me!”
You were gasping for breath when the tears started to fall. You messily wiped them away, still fuming with anger that had built up over the seven years you’d been alone.
“Are you quite finished?” Alastor asked, his smile forced. Standing, his papers vanished, and tucked his arms behind his back. “Clean yourself up. I refuse to talk while you’re being hysterical.”
“Hysterical?! Hysterical?! What the fuck, Al?!” You yelled. “You are such a selfish, pretentious piece of shit!”
With a hum, Alastor disappeared into the shadows, causing you to scream in frustration.
The jazz music had stopped. You were standing, alone, in your room, gasping for air as you stifled sobs.
The day had been going so well. You had to go and fuck it up.
Ten minutes later, you wandered to the lobby, still pissed off, but feeling a little better after crying the most you had in years. Silently, you took a seat at the bar. Husk was there, like always, and immediately started to make you your favorite drink
“Finally give him a piece of your mind?” Husk asked.
“That obvious?” Your voice was hoarse from the shouting.
“I could hear the screaming.” Husk gestured up. “Also, you look like shit, and the last time I saw you like this, it was also about him.”
The drink was placed in front of you, but you just massaged your temples. “I don’t know why I put up with him.”
Husk grabbed a bottle and drank it straight, whatever it was. “Love fucking sucks.”
You sighed, “Husk, we’ve been over this, I don’t love people like that.”
“Sure, maybe not romantically. But you still love him. And it still fucking sucks.”
“That's something, coming from you.” You took a drink, reveling in how the alcohol warmed your body. “Don't think I don't see how you look at Angel.”
Husk glared deeply at you, not denying it. You smirked, taking another drink.
“How do I get him to understand?” You asked quietly, half to yourself. “He’s so fucking narcissistic, I bet he didn’t even think twice about leaving me behind.”
“I couldn’t tell ya’.” Husk shrugged. “I will say, though, that you’re the only person who can actually get through to him. You have that power over him.”
You scoffed. “Like Hell I do.”
“If anyone else speaks to him like you do, they’re dead before they get a chance to think.” Shelving his drink, Husk began to busy himself behind the counter, cleaning some glasses. “Last I checked, you were still kicking.”
Silent, you contemplated Husk’s words. He had a point. If Alastor cared about anyone, it was you. Finishing your drink with another sigh, you stood. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You had to finish this.
“Stick to your guns, kid,” Husk assured. You didn’t have the heart to tell him you’re probably older than him.
“Thanks, Husk. See you soon.”
You remained quiet as you walked up to Alastor’s radio booth. Out of respect for his boundaries, you hardly ever went up there, but this was important. Radio static filled the air the closer you got, confirming that he was indeed in his booth, but the lack of his voice told you he wasn’t recording.
Before you even got the chance to knock, Alastor’s shadow opened the door for you.
Alastor was hunched over his desk, writing notes on what was likely a script for an upcoming radio show. His recording booth was a mess, with papers scattered all over the place and claw marks littering every piece of furniture that wasn’t nailed down. The feeling of Alastor’s radio static was heavy, but barely audible as Alastor wrote.
“I would apologize for shouting, but I don’t really feel sorry,” you opened with, arms crossed.
“As you shouldn’t,” Alastor agreed, not even turning towards you. “I will say, I’m surprised you stopped when you did. I’d expected you to go on for much longer.”
You couldn’t help but snort at that remark. “Oh, trust me, there were many versions of that conversation where I went on for about half an hour.” You left out saying that you had seven years to formulate them, thinking that would only make the situation worse.
“I don’t doubt you.” After a moment, Alastor sighed, setting down his pen and sitting back in his chair. You can see the reflection of his face in the glass. His smile is still there, but barely, and his eyes seem tired. Husk was right, you did make an impression.
Alastor turned towards you, leaning his head into one hand while he tapped his fingers along his microphone staff. He still never met your eyes. “You… are correct.”
Silent, you waited for Alastor to continue, watching him closely.
“I should not have left you without saying anything. I regret not speaking with you before I left.” You could tell he was struggling to get his words out. Emotions were hard for him, be it by nature or by choice, so you remained patient. “I left… to keep you safe.”
Hoping your surprise wasn’t evident on your face, you found a chair and pulled it up in front of him. The tension in your shoulders lessened when Alastor took your hand, holding it gently.
“Had I not taken my absence, you would’ve been in danger. Danger I’d be unable to protect you from. I could not take that chance.” Alastor finally looked up at you. He was still guarded, still holding himself back, but there was something warm in the way he looked at you. A soft side, that only you had the privilege to see. “If something happened to you, I would be unable to live with myself. So I left, because it was the only way to ensure you would remain safe.”
A hand reached up and grazed your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t even realized was on your face.
“It was the only way, my darling. I wish it hadn’t come to that. And I am ashamed that I hurt you so much in my absence.”
You were at a loss for words. Alastor had never, never, opened himself up like that. It was a little scary. Part of you wished he’d just brushed off the argument and pretended it had never happened. At least that would’ve matched what you’d expected. This… this was not at all what you’d expected.
Blinking, your heart rate picked up against your will. “Al, I… Th-thank you for the apology, I… This… is scaring me, Al. You’re scaring me. Are you okay? This isn’t like you.”
Alastor’s hand left your face. “You are correct in saying that I am not the same man I once was. I continue to hope I will revert back to who I was, but I can see now that that’s impossible. You, dearest, are the only thing making that revelation bearable.”
As your heart beat against your chest, you struggled to evaluate your next move. You wanted to scramble away, to beg for the old Alastor back, but you knew that wasn’t the right move. You knew this was the actual, real Alastor in front of you and not some sort of imposter. The idea that the old Alastor had vanished the day you were left on your own did not sit well with you. Frankly, it made you sick.
But now was not the time. Right now, Alastor needed you, as fucked up as it seemed.
Exhaling forcefully, you took hold of Alastor’s hands this time. “Thank you for coming back. Whatever it is that’s going on, we’ll deal with it together. Like always. I’m your partner, Al, and I’m not leaving anytime soon, got it?”
Alastor nodded, closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them again, his spark had returned. His smile grew once more and he stood, pulling you to his chest.
“Well! Now that that’s settled, how about a dance, my dear? It has been quite a while since we’ve had the chance to cut a rug together.”
With the snap of Alastor’s fingers, some jazz filled the room and the disheveled furniture was shoved against the ways to make room. Mustering your own smile, you placed your hand in his and allowed him to lead you around the room in time with the music.
It was nice to dance, you had to admit, but the abrupt change left a bad feeling in your stomach. Something was not right. In fact, something felt wrong. But now was not the time for that. Hiding behind your smile as skillfully as Alastor himself, you went along with his antics.
But the sinking feeling of dread remained.
