No More Distance

Everything was extremely quiet, even the flames.

They burned around her, within her, its smoke masking and smothering everything. But why? Why couldn't she get out? Why couldn't she bend it to her will? …Wait…

Ah.

If memory served, she'd used her powers. Her beautiful, stupid, stifling powers.

A tremor wracked her body as the flames licked at her, though she felt no heat. It felt freezing. And yet she couldn't get warm or cold either way.

This has happened before, nothing to be alarmed about. She would just sleep it off in the comfort of her own bed. However, there was something unfamiliar beneath her. It was soft, but unforgiving. A floor, it seemed. Not her bed.

She tensed. She was vulnerable, she couldn't let anyone see her like this. Unfortunately, she heard voices, very familiar ones, but they didn't quite break through the smoke.

A splash of something cold against her face didn't extinguish the flames, but it did temper them for a few moments. A woman was asking her questions. She recognized this voice, but she couldn't quite place it, and her words were very muffled. She couldn't make any of it out. Still, she stiffly shook her head once or twice just to simply supply an answer.

Seconds later, as to be expected after a short lull, the flames and smoke came back full force, and she couldn't hear anything for quite some time.

Quite suddenly, her world spun when she was suddenly lifted away from the ground. A newer voice was talking, and there was radio static all around her. She tried leaning herself towards the familiar sound, but something was wrapped around her, keeping her still and secure.

Then, there was something soft beneath her again, this time cozy and fluffy. Unfortunately, whatever had been wrapped around her had disappeared, as did the radio static. She curled in on herself, not knowing what to do at the loss. Well, at least it felt like she was in her bed now.

The flames kept licking at her, and the smoke kept billowing and suffocating. She was trapped, and just like times previous, she would just have to wait it out, wait for it all to die down on its own.

Suddenly, the voice and the radio static were back. He spoke boisterously to her at first, as if nothing was wrong. Minutes passed by like this, with someone familiar speaking to her, and her listening as intently as possible. Gradually, the voice became gentler the more he spoke, and she desperately wished she could reach out and physically touch it.

His words were clearer than the woman's had been, but she still couldn't make out any specifics. Still, the more he talked, the more the smoke and fire tamed. She allowed the warmth in his voice to fill her, because she knew it would go away eventually.

The kind of state that she was in always unsettled her when it happened. The vulnerability, the helplessness, the discomfort.

The warmth and softness in that oh so familiar voice made her feel safe and confident, like she could do anything. She wasn't quite ready to awaken, but this was an improvement all the same. Even when his voice disappeared, even after the radio static faded…

For the first time in her life, she was able to control it all, all by herself.

The flames and smoke now kept a respectful distance.

Normally when Charlie awoke from this affair, she was quite groggy and went to sleep immediately afterwards for another few hours or even up to a day.

This time was different.

Very, very different.

She felt okay. Not perfect, still sort of tired, but her head was pretty clear. She had yet to open her eyes, actually wanting to rest rather than feeling like it was a necessity to do so. She snuggled into her pillow, inhaling and exhaling.

Her nose crinkled. Her bed smelled different than usual. It almost smelled like cooking spices and…some sort of metal. Though, not quite metal, there was something very distinctive about it. It was an odd combination, but not unpleasant. Curious, she rubbed the heels of one of her hands against her eyelids and she slowly opened them.

The first thing she noticed was that these weren't her usual bed sheets, given their dark coloration. Perhaps Niffty had replaced them. Things got even more bizarre as she did a quick glance at a small section of the room. She was lying on her side and staring at dark walls that didn't look like her own, making her do a double-take.

Now beyond confused, she turned a little and sat up, grunting at the slight stiffness in her joints. Previously passing out on the hallway floor had not done wonders.

She gazed around more. From the walls, to the ceiling, to the kitchenette, and to the bare wooden floor, Charlie quickly concluded that this wasn't her room. At all. Her eyebrows scrunched. It was still familiar, though, like she'd been here before. It felt familiar. She continued searching with her eyes, hoping that something about this room would jog her -

She clapped a hand over her mouth to smother her gasp and she jumped so sharply that she nearly fell off the edge of the bed. She stared at the other side of the bed, her eyes wider than they'd ever been.

...Alastor was lying right next to her.

Charlie blinked rapidly.

…There…

…There were too many things to process.

She wasn't in her bedroom. She was in his.

These weren't her bed covers. They were his.

She was in his bed.

She was in a bed with the infamous Radio Demon.

Charlie moved her hand to her forehead, her head spinning. "How…" she whispered to herself. How did I even end up here? Does…Does Alastor even know I'm here? With him? As ridiculous of a thought as this was, she highly doubted that Alastor had carried her to his room given that he was too private of a person for that. However, it did kind of seem like he knew she was here, given that he was inches away from her and facing towards her.

He was on his side, eyes closed and very much asleep. He was in an interesting position that looked rather uncomfortable. His arms were stiffly stretched outward towards her side of the bed, and his neck was at an unnatural angle due to the side of his head resting directly against the headboard instead of the pillows.

She noticed that he was lying on the mattress, sans covers. Likewise, she also noticed that she was in possession of all that. The comforter and sheet were tucked around her in a bulky and warm cocoon.

Three things happened involuntarily as she continued to stare at Alastor's sleeping form. One, she brought the covers more snuggly around herself. Two, she slowly sank down to lie on her side again.

And three, she inhaled again. The linens also smelled just like his cooking, but she couldn't quite place the odd metallic scent. Hmm. Maybe it had something to do with pots and pans…? She actually wasn't quite sure, and that theory didn't feel right in all honesty.

She pushed some of the covers aside to rest her temple against one of his pillows again. The scent was even stronger and she practically melted against the pillow. She…She liked how it smelled.

She continued to gaze at him, far too curious about how she'd ended up here, how long she'd been here, why he seemed enough at ease to fall asleep next to her, and…

For the first time since waking up, for the first time since she noticed who she was sharing a bed with, Charlie noticed something very obvious last.

Alastor wasn't smiling.

At all.

Not even a scowl or a sneer.

To be fair, he wasn't frowning either and he was asleep. He had a tired and neutral expression on his face, as if the smile he usually wore could now relax completely and fade away.

Despite how awkward his sleeping position looked, he seemed deeply and contentedly asleep. Charlie should be looking away, having been staring at him for a very inappropriate amount of time. But when would she get this opportunity again, to see him as content as he is now?

He'd been so…off these past few weeks. He'd been social for the most part, but there was a lack of his usual enthusiasm, as if taking part in things was no longer entertaining to him. He'd been acting tense, too, especially during their meetings. He was as helpful as always, but not as talkative.

Charlie gave a small smile, happy that he was relaxed right now, and seemingly okay about lying in bed only inches away from her. The last thing she'd want is for him to feel uncomfortable because of her.

However, her usual professionalism nagged at the back of her mind. She didn't know whether Alastor would want her to see him without his smile, his most signature look. Most likely not. With a disappointed frown, she twisted herself to face away from him.

She debated on quietly getting up and going to her bedroom to give Alastor his privacy back, but a thought occurred to her. She brought the covers tighter around herself and closed her eyes with a comfortable sigh. She didn't feel tired at all, which was abnormal for her in this instance. But the next wave of drowsiness was sure to come, and she didn't want it to hit while she was up and about and collapse in the hallway again. Plus, he hadn't personally kicked her out yet.

And, well, it felt cozy being wrapped up in his blankets.

As she waited for sleep to take her again, she fidgeted with a loose string of fabric from the comforter. It was yet another mind-blowing reminder that she wasn't in her bed, but in Alastor's. She could feel her face heating up, and she brought the covers tighter around herself to modestly bury her face in them.

Alastor was so close that she could hear his steady breathing. She was in Alastor's bed.

She was in Alastor's bed.

She…

She was…in his…

…

She bolted upright.

Immediately and frantically, she bunched the covers as best she could to get a good look at them. After that, she unceremoniously tossed them away to a random spot on the bed to now haphazardly inspect the mattress. She continued to push and swish fabric rapidly aside, causing a rather loud fuss in the process.

"You're finally awake! How wonderful!"

Charlie snapped her gaze to Alastor. He was wide awake now, also sitting upright, and wearing an elated smile that reached his ears.

There were many questions that Charlie wanted answers to, many that were much more pertinent than her current sheer confusion. But…

"How did I not burn through the bed?!"

Alastor's smile didn't falter as he calmly tilted his head slightly at her. "That's what you're worried about, my dear? Not at all about the fact that you've been pretty much comatose for the better part of the day."

"No, no, no," she shook her quickly, taking her attention off him to continue gripping and pulling at the linens. "You don't get it. My own bed is flame resistant. W-when this happens I don't use any other place to rest because I could set things on fire. Oh my god!" She groaned as she pressed her palms against her eyes in embarrassment. "I am so sorry if I burned anything."

She heard Alastor chuckle. She also heard him shuffling around, but then he stopped. Then, the shuffling was slower, almost careful for some reason. That's when she felt fingers gently, almost cautiously, wrapping around her wrists.

When Alastor took her hands away and was able to see her face, he dropped his own hands at once. Alarmed for a second, Charlie thought her skin must still be hot enough to burn. But she could see that he wore an amused expression, with no evidence of pain. "Have you found any burn marks," he asked.

"N-no," she muttered.

"Then you've nothing to worry about! And besides, do you honestly think I'd be foolish enough to let your burn down your own hotel?" He laughed. "You wound me, my dear."

Charlie's brows scrunched. "So, you used your magic to…treat the bed, I take it?"

"Yes." He nodded proudly. "While we're being honest, some scorch marks had formed." He laughed again when she adorably flopped onto her side and shielded her face with her hair. "But I had taken care of those as well, just as I'll do the same with the ones in the hallway. Provided Niffty hasn't already gotten on that, but I think she's busy with some sort of broken glass situation."

Charlie groaned, curling up tighter. "I hate my powers," she mumbled against her hair.

She heard Alastor hum. "I suppose that's fair, given that they seem to be doing you no favors. I have to ask, though. Why does this happen?"

"I dunno...My mmm ought-"

He chuckled and she felt those fingers return. Her blush came back again when his hands brushed over her face, tucking her hair over her ears and shoulders. This action was a little bit clumsy, as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with his hands to begin with. Once they could see each other's faces, he instantly took his hands away. It was the exact same way he reacted before. Quick, as if it never happened.

Still wearing an amused smile, he said, "I couldn't hear a word of that."

She sighed. "My dad always thought it was because of me having an abnormal bloodline. Demons and angels were never meant to procreate. Dad's a fallen angel, but still. And then he and mom made me and, well, they kinda never expected to have me." She grimaced. "Sorry. Off-topic," she mumbled. "Anyway, it's not so much that I don't have control over my powers, it's just how I feel afterwards. Lethargic, exhausted, sometimes dizzy, sometimes passing out."

"Why even use them at all if they affect you so?"

"Didn't have much of a choice this time," she said with a shrug. "Steel and Baxter started one of a hell of a fight and I needed them to stop somehow."

Alastor dubiously quirked an eyebrow. "My dear, I couldn't possibly see you using your powers to create violence. And you mean to tell me you used them against those two imbeciles?"

"Not against them, really," she explained. "Just to stop them, separate them from each other for at least a minute to be able to talk them down. That was what all that broken glass was about. It started it all."

Alastor stared at her for a long second, a perplexed smile on his face. "And that worked? Using something as destructive as fire to stop them without hurting them?"

"This time it did," she muttered.

She remembered when she had fought Katie Killjoy. She had tried her absolute damnedest to make sure she didn't use her powers or even change into her demonic form for that matter, opting for a fist-fight instead. However, Tom Trench had tried to help Killjoy at some point, outnumbering Charlie. She'd simply wanted to use her fire to block his path. But then Killjoy pushed him right into it, setting him ablaze.

She got out of her reverie when she heard Alastor. He emitted something of a confusing mix between a sigh, scoff, and a chuckle as he leaned his back against the headboard. He had an odd expression that Charlie couldn't make sense of.

His voice was low, talking to himself, as if she wasn't in the room. "You never cease to…" he trailed off, staring at a random spot on the wall. Charlie opened her mouth to ask him what was on his mind, but he snapped his gaze to her. "And how about to prevent it?"

Charlie, now pretty much used to his random changes in tone and topic in conversation for the most part, asked, "The fight, you mean?"

He shook his head. "Your powers. How do you stop them from affecting you in such a way?"

"Oh. Uh…I don't, I guess? The best thing for me to do is to just use them sparingly. And if and when I do end up like this, I just have to sleep it off. Like always. There's nothing really to do."

He hummed thoughtfully, staring at the wall again. Then, his eyebrows scrunched together, disapprovingly. "I don't like that."

Charlie frowned. "What?"

He faced her again, a muddled scowl mixing with his smile. "You – No, I mean," he said in oddly frustrated tone. "When you're…" He paused to vaguely gesture to her, to the spot where she had previously been sleeping, then back to her.

Charlie just stared at him. She had to admit that even though she didn't understand at all what he was getting at, she was extremely fascinated. When had she ever seen Alastor struggle for words? She couldn't help but smile endearingly at that. Upon seeing her confusion, Alastor's scowl only deepened as he dropped the matter with a huff.

"Maybe…try again," she encouraged lightly.

He only shook his head stiffly. He sighed and straightened up a little. "Very well, then. What do I need to do if this happens again? Surely just letting you rest and writhe in agony can't be the solution."

She shrugged a little, nonchalantly. "It's not really agony. It's just…a lot of exhaustion and being disoriented. Sometimes it's uncomfortable, like it was this time, but not always. And, really, you don't need to do anything. I just need to be able to rest somewhere where things won't get caught on fire."

"Like your bedroom."

She nodded. "And here, too, apparently," she said, plucking at some imaginary dust on the mattress. She paused doing that to glance at the blankets that she had tossed towards to the foot of the bed. "How did you know I needed to rest and…How did I end up here anyway?"

"Your former lover explained some of it to me, though I could tell she wasn't exactly up for sharing much. But she did tell me what needed to be done for you, and I did exactly that."

Charlie raised a brow. "So…You actually did bring me here? As in carried me?"

He laughed. "My dear, how else did you think you got here?"

She shook her head, stunned. "You carried me," she repeated. "How did I not burn you?"

"Hmm," he mused. "Still not quite sure about that one. I entertained the theory that it had something to do with my involvement with voodoo. Many witch doctors out there have more…gentler practices, summoning the energy of the elements to aid in their work, one of which being fire. However, I didn't often utilize that, opting for blacker magic instead."

"Um," she muttered after a moment. "But…Why bring me here? You could've easily have just left me in my room."

"As in leaving you by yourself?" He rolled his eyes. "You wound me once again."

"Okay," she gave a short sigh, seeing that he was dancing around the subject a little. "But why bring me to your room, though?"

He paused a little, probably not expecting her to ask again with a little more insistency. He cleared his throat, and looked away from her. If Charlie didn't know any better, it almost looked like he was embarrassed by something.

"Truth be told, I'm not quite sure. I remember my first thought being to take you somewhere you'd feel less vulnerable, and then my next thought being that my room is naturally laced with a lot of my magic. It seemed only fitting to have you rest in here." The scowl returned. "It made sense to me at the time."

A smile spread on Charlie's face. "You thought I'd feel safe in here."

He cleared his throat again, a little louder, as he leaned back against the headboard while twitching a shoulder in an awkward shrug. "I-Yes, I suppose so."

Once again, her traitorous blush made an appearance. This time, instead of turning away or using her hands to hide her cheeks, she only smiled wider. "Thank you," she said. "Because it worked."

He instantly looked at her. "It did? I mean, yes! Yes, it seemed to, given how you reacted."

"It was so crazy," she breathed. "When I'm unconscious like that, I feel like I have no control over anything. I…can't remember much, but I remember feeling your bed, and maybe even hearing your background static, I think. And I just…felt like I had more control of it all."

He nodded once. "That's…Yes, that's good. I'm glad," he finished, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

The blush stayed on her cheeks, especially as she said, "I've missed you."

His smile and his entire body froze, and Charlie thought she'd said something wrong there for a second. But then his smile widened into something that looked like pure unadulterated joy, and he opened his mouth, as if ready to say something very important. However, his mouth snapped shut and he straightened his back, looking flustered all of a sudden. And then he composed himself by belting out his usual mischievous laugh.

Charlie blinked, feeling incredibly whiplashed. Just when she thought she was getting a handle on his ever-changing moods…

"And wherever have I been, my dear," he jested. "I haven't left the Hotel since joining!"

"No," she sighed. "But I haven't seen much of you lately. It's like you've been, I don't know, deliberately distant. I mean, you can be as distant as you wanna be, you definitely shouldn't feel obligated to-"

"And you didn't like that."

She paused at his interruption. He was looking at her with an expression that she couldn't quite describe. It sort of looked like he was contemplating something while still keeping all of his focus on her.

She sighed. "No. You're my friend, and…" As she spoke, she started looking away from him, trying to find the right words. "And you mean so much to me now. And I felt like I had done something wrong. Like I wasn't doing enough or-"

She stopped when she felt familiar fingers pressing against the side of her jaw. Without resisting whatsoever, she allowed those fingers to guide her face.

Her breath caught in her throat, the blush coming back full force as she stared directly into Alastor's red eyes.

He was inches away from her, so close that his breath drifted across her face. He was staring directly into her eyes, searching for something in them. Then, he tilted his head. "You're blaming this on yourself." He shook his head and chuckled oddly. "My dear, the fault is all mine in this regard. I merely thought you'd want space after your spat with your former lover. So space is what I gave you."

She frowned slightly. "Um…Thank you, I guess. That was really considerate of you." She paused, half-expecting him to make a sarcastic remark at that kind of compliment, but all he did was continue to stare at her, waiting for her to go on. "But I guess I'm so used to your, well, company that it felt weird not seeing you that often."

He hummed thoughtfully at this. His fingers were still beneath her chin, with the back of his thumb idly tracing her jaw line. He was still searching for something in her eyes.

He suddenly grimaced uncomfortably a little. His face was very close of course, but he was leaning his upper body forward to do so.

Her eyes widened when he decidedly shifted the rest of himself closer to her. In all honesty, this wasn't much of a change given that the close proximity remained pretty much the same, but this allowed him to relax some. Also, their bodies were now so close that if either of them moved their legs would be brushing. His thumb continued to stroke her jaw as he turned his hand a little to cup the side of her face.

His smile widened. "I've missed you as well, my dearest."

Charlie sighed happily. "I've missed you, too. Uh...Wait, I've said that already."

He chuckled. He was wearing that soft smile that she hadn't seen in weeks, the smile that only seemed to be reserved for her.

"Just," she murmured, feeling light. She was also feeling a tad giddy for some reason, especially when she realized she at some point had placed her hand over his, keeping it to her face. She couldn't believe he was allowing prolonged contact like this, and that he didn't seem to mind whatsoever. "Just, please," she continued. "No more distance? I mean," she suddenly shook her head, her smile fading. "I actually can't…That's not fair of me to ask of you…"

As she tripped over her words, she tried to tilt her head away, but Alastor kept a hold of her face. He shifted closer to keep her gaze, his knee brushing hers for a brief second. Charlie immediately stopped her stuttering.

"Yes," he agreed, in a voice that sounded laced with relief for some reason. "No more distance."

He was impossibly closer to her, so much so that their foreheads were almost touching. His thumb had moved away from her jaw and was now stroking over the curve of her cheek. His eyes drifted over her face, and he opened his mouth, probably to say something. But then, his thumb moved back under jaw, with purpose.

Charlie swallowed, her blush even stronger now as she allowed him to tilt her face even closer to his. Her heart was thumping rapidly in her chest.

Then, his smile changed into something just a little more reserved.

His movements weren't rushed and he didn't seem panicked, but he still shifted away from her. Not too far though, just enough to lean his back against the headboard once again while still having enough reach to hold her face. Charlie's shoulders sagged a little, feeling both disoriented and heavily disappointed.

"I'm glad that's settled, then," he commented with a content smile. "Now, I should probably let you get back to sleep. It is now…" He glanced away from her to briefly look at his clock on the nightstand. "after three in the morning."

Her head was still swimming from what she thought had almost been on the verge of happening. But her eyes still widened at that information. "Th-three in the morning," she exhaled. "How long was out?"

"Just short of ten hours, I'd say."

She chuckled slightly, almost a scoff. "I'd be very surprised if I could get back to sleep."

"Perhaps," he smirked as he grabbed a book that was sitting next to the clock. "But I highly doubt there's much else for you to do. You're not as much of a night person as I am." He gave her one more smile, smoothly dropped his hand from her face, and opened up his book.

She only hummed vaguely in response to that. She looked away from him to look down at the mattress, and then at the covers still crumpled in a heap at the foot of the bed where she'd tossed them.

"And…" She began to ask. "You're okay with me…sleeping here?"

He let out a laugh. "I thought that was implied." Not looking up from his book, he leaned away from the headboard. With how long his limbs were, he effortlessly reached towards the foot of the bed, grabbed the comforter, and lifted it sort of awkwardly towards Charlie. Which it kind of had to be awkward. The covers were king-sized, fairly heavy, and he was lifting almost all of it with one hand.

Chuckling a little, she took the covers from him, tucked them around herself, and shimmied to lie back down. When she looked back up at him, he was once again against the headboard, still reading, as if he'd never moved at all.

For a few minutes, she tossed and turned lazily, trying to find the most comfortable position. Her mind was still reeling. She still wasn't over the fact that she was literally sharing a bed with Alastor. And she didn't think she'd ever get over what had almost just happened between them.

The way he spoke, how soft his smile was, the way he leaned in…

Charlie shook her head immediately, trying not to read too far into it. Alastor had no regard for personal space. She shouldn't have been surprised or affected at all by how close their proximity had been.

But she had been affected by it, so much so that she had been more than ready to respond to something she didn't know she'd wanted from him.

She finally picked a comfortable position, one that was disappointingly facing away from him, and tried to settle.

She had wanted Alastor to kiss her.