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The exhaustion Alastor felt as he crawled into bed was something he could hardly describe, his limbs felt heavy, every muscle practically screamed against movement, he hasn’t been this drained, this in pain since. He felt blood spill from the corner of his mouth, he winced as the wound on his side from Adam’s attack throbbed, blood soaking through his clothes. Each breath he took was a labor, his chest rising and falling as if he were still alive and had never died, though he supposed, since his death, he had been reborn in the worst place possible, so maybe this pain, this labored breathing, was in fact him being alive.
He adjusted himself, trying to get comfortable, wincing when a sharp pain jolted from his side and down his torso, despite the rumors others may have said when he’d been alive, he actually was not a masochist. Yes, he enjoyed testing the limits of his body, pushing himself to see just how far he could go, but that was merely due to his profession, he saw it as a challenge, a personal quest for mastery over his own physicality. Yet, it wasn't about the pain. In fact, he despised the sensation of discomfort, the ache that lingered long after the exertion had ceased.
And knowing how he got this way, having lost to Adam, a surge of anger consumed him. Despite the fact that his Radio Tower had already been reduced to ruins upon his arrival, he couldn't resist obliterating it once again, his fury manifesting in a vivid display of green sparks and manic laughter. The pounding of his heart resonated so loudly that it echoed in his ears.
He closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to pass out, hoping that by morning, his wounds will have coagulated by then. Just as he was about to fall into blissful darkness, a knock on his door interrupted him, “Alastor?” Charlie’s voice was muffled from behind the door.
He took a moment to gather himself. His shadow had to force himself up from the bed as his legs were too heavy to sustain his own weight, even opening the door proved to be a challenge. “Hey Alastor.” Charlie greeted him in her normal cheerful self.
“Greetings Charlie.” He gripped the door handle tightly, “Tell me, what brings you my way? It is quite late, I assumed you and Vaggie would be in bed,”
“Yeah, I am.” Charlie blushed, sheepishly at the mention of her girlfriend, “I just wanted to go around and check in on everyone, we all did have a pretty impactful day.”
He chuckled, an understatement he was sure, “Indeed.”
“Anyway, my dad and everyone else are already in bed and I wanted to see…” Her eyes narrowed as she seemed to be studying something, then horror washed over her face, “Al, what happened!?” He blinked at the concern in her voice, looking down he realized that the wound on his side had left a deep stain even darker on his clothes than it could camouflage.
He blinked at the anxiety in her words, and looking down, he realized that the wound on his side had left a large stain on his garments, blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, he casually wiped it away, “Nothing to worry over, my dear, simply what happens when one battles the first mortal soul—”
“Adam did that to you!?” Charlie looked horrified, “And you didn’t tell us?”
Alastor shrugged his shoulder, aggravating his side further, yet he persisted, smiling through it all, as he always did. “You all were rather busy fighting for your very lives to worry about me.” The worry in Charlie’s eyes made laugh, “This really is nothing that concerns you, my dear.”
Charlie shook her head, frowning, “You’re a guest at this hotel, you fought for this hotel, Al. This—” She gestures towards his wound, “Is my concern.”
Alastor fixed Charlie with a look, he stared at her eyes unblinking, and she stared right back. Normally, he would have put on more of a show, played everything off with gusto and cheerfulness, and shooed her away, but he simply didn’t have the energy for it and it pissed him off to feel so weak. “If I allow you to properly doctor this, will you then allow me to sleep?”
Charlie smirked at him, face full of triumph. “Absolutely!”
“Very well.”
Now here he sat on his bed, his shirt and coat unbuttoned, biting his cheek as she wiped away the blood staining his skin. He felt a sensation like a thousand bugs crawling along his flesh, yet he endeavored to maintain his composure as she worked, the smile on his face remaining. “Sorry.” Charlie said apologetically, her hands working with precision, if she noticed his scars along his chest, she didn’t comment on them. “I’m trying to be quick, I know you don’t like to be touched.” He involuntarily twitched as Charlie began delicately stitching his wound, her stitch work as jagged but if it prevented any further blood from escaping then there was no harm in letting her continue.
“Sorry.”
Always apologizing. He hummed out a low signal of static and feedback in reply. And for a few blissful moments, there was silence.
“Hey Al?”
He forced himself not to sigh, “Yes?”
“I’m sorry that we didn’t look for you. I mean, we thought you were dead, but that’s not an excuse, I just didn’t think… ” Charlie couldn’t seem to form what she was trying to convey into a proper sentence, “I’m sorry, I hope this doesn’t make you think we don’t care.”
“You're.. display when I returned made your sentiments clear enough” He leaned a cheek against his hand, “Pentious’ memorial looks wonderful by the way.”
A smile graced her features, “You remembered his name.”
With a shrug and a chuckle, he tilted his head. “Hard to forget someone who made such a noble sacrifice!”
Charlie's expression turned guilty once more. “I should have given you one too.”
Oh what a marvel it is to see one have such unnecessary guilt.
“I’m flattered, my dear, but I do not need one.” What he did was far from noble, a characteristic that defined him in all aspects of his life. He had grown accustomed to this reality, embracing the notion that self-gratification held greater value than any acts of kindness towards others. “For as you can see, I’m not dead!”
Charlie's smile was almost relieved. "I'm glad. I’m not happy you didn’t tell me about you being hurt but I’m really glad you're okay." She said, then carefully went back to tending to his wound, wrapping it in several layers of gauze.
Her words, her kind and genuine words gave him pause, Alastor's gaze lingered on her. A rush of static coursed through his chest, but he pushed it down and closed his eyes, wanting the feeling to go away, knowing in the long run, these would do him no good. He pressed his chin against his palm, having long since past the point where his body could tolerate being touched, yet forced himself to remain motionless.
"Something else?" He asked, opening his eyes, narrowing them.
“Uh sorry, um.. I noticed— You sound different?” Her voice held a note of hesitation, almost like she regretted the words as soon as she said them.
Alastor's eye twitched as another wave of static surged through him, distorting his vision this time, yet he played it off, had just enough energy in him to be casual. “Ah yes, there’s a simple answer to that.” He gestured her closer, she blinked at him and leaned in, “I’m tired.”
Which wasn’t a complete lie.
Charlie scoffed, frowning at him, “You’ve had that uh, Filter for the entire time I’ve known you, and now you don’t? Either you're lying or something’s wrong.” She narrowed her eyes at him, studying him, trying to see past the walls he put up.
His patience was really growing thin, though strangely he did surprisingly appreciate her concern, though her prattling was starting to give him a headache, he could feel his lonbraj getting restless, "As flattered as I am for your concern, I must disappoint you as I've now reached my limit,"
Charlie looked like she wanted to argue, yet stopped herself, rubbing a hand through her hair, looking stressed. “Right.. Boundaries.” He heard her mumble to herself, “I’m sorry, I just…”
He held up a hand, then patted her head, “It’s quite alright, dear, thank you for your assistance.”
He watched Charlie’s shoulder raise, looking awkward. “So I guess, I’ll just leave you to it?” Slowly, awkwardly, she rose to her feet, “See you tomorrow?”
“And you, as well.”
She nodded, and made her way towards the door before pausing, “Oh, and Alastor?”
“Hm?”
“I know…” She paused, fidgeting with her finger nails a bit, “I know that you can be an ass sometimes, but I want you to know that I really am glad that you're okay. This hotel wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Any other day he would have agreed, but for some reason he simply couldn’t maybe it was the fight with Adam, giving him perspective, a perspective he didn’t want to fucking see, that he wasn’t all powerful, that he wasn’t as confident as he wanted to be. His eye twitched, yet her concern reminded him of someone, someone, the only one he ever really loved, looking at Charlie, seeing her, seeing his mother, seeing both of them, his smile was as genuine as it ever could be, “And this place would fall without you.”
Her eyes shined with gratitude and so many other emotions, “Thank you.” She smiled at him, one as bright as diamonds, then laughed sheepishly, “So… Good night?”
He nodded, giving her a gentle bow, “Sleep well, demon belle.”
She snorted at the nickname, and Alastor couldn't help but genuinely smile in return as she walked out the door, closing it with a soft click. He settled into bed, taking note the pain was less frequent then it had been and also considerably easier to manage. Her words replayed in his head, like an old recording. He had his own plans, his own agendas to why he was here. He wanted to gain her trust, for his own desires, selfish? Maybe. Manipulative? Yes, as that’s who he was even long before he died. Yet to know she cared, that she genuinely was happy to see him alive and well and concerned for him… he hasn’t had anyone care about him since his mother.
Oh his mother…
Try as he might, the one thing from his old life that will never fade away was the love he had for her. Even when he got here the one thing he wondered, hoped beyond hope was the chance that he could see her again, only to realize seconds later that no, his mother, his wonderful, kind hearted mother would never be in such a damning place.
“Altruist, Alastor.” His mother once told him, when he’d been very young and helpless. “The world may surprise you if you are.”
His throat felt unbearably tight, his chest surged with static, delivering a tangible jolt that erupted into laughter. He was both bewildered and captivated by the unexpected flood of emotions. Had his encounter with Adam truly left such a profound impact, shattering him to this extent? He stared up at the ceiling, the newly constructed ceiling Charlie had built just for him, someone no one else would ever had done for him but she did out of the goodness of her heart.
Perhaps he could acknowledge that he was starting to grow fond for this little hotel and its inhabitants. Maybe, in the grand scheme of things, being here, amongst his friends wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Altruist, maman.