Charlie stood outside of Alastor's door, willing herself to knock. She felt nervous. The past days had been a rollercoaster and other than the brief meeting about the new angel's office they had barely spoken. Not that they had a habit of heart to hearts anyways. He had always proven elusive. But now more than ever she felt herself desperately wanting to connect with him and not knowing how.
As she was just about to knock, the door opened. She immediately retracted her hand, jumping back with a start. He was frowning. An unsettling sight.
"Can I help you?"
"I was just…" she trailed off, now unsure of herself. Finding her resolve she cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, I can see where this whole thing is difficult for you...but I need some answers if we're going to...you know…"
He sighed but his smile snapped back to his face. "How do you take your tea princess?"
Charlie held her cup of tea awkwardly. She couldn't get over how huge his room looked. More of a small apartment than a room, really. She was in a small sitting area with a table and cushy chairs, a bed made behind a fancy divider, a full kitchen at the other end complete with a small dining table. Some sort of enchantment she suspected. Part of her wanted to ask if he could do the same with the others but knew she was already pushing her boundaries.
He sat across from her, sipping his tea and smiling at her. When a few minutes passed he seemed to realize she would need prompting and lounged further in his seat with a sigh.
"You'll need to be getting to your point Princess, I do have other things to see to."
She gulped. "How," she started, faltering. "How do you know the new angel."
The air crackled and she clutched her cup tighter. Alastor never lost his smile, but it seemed more strained.
"He is the very man who caught me," Alastor said, his old transatlantic dialect coloring his words again. "The scoundrel that sicked the dogs on me, my arch nemesis, my greatest obstacle…" He trailed off and looked at his tea with heavy lidded eyes, leaning his cheek on his fist. "In some ways...my favorite playmate."
She looked confused and he nodded. "Yes, it was a bit complicated admittedly. That man loves a chase and we were worthy opponents."
"So that's why he-" she stopped herself, already hearing a hum resound through the room. "Seems to, um, get under your skin?"
Alastor seemed to consider this for a moment. "It's funny actually," he mused. "I think the two of us are very similar in a way. All this good and evil nonsense...it felt like a game at the time. Teams, you understand. It almost seems silly to have him here. Childish."
"So you're mad because he...caught you?"
"I let him catch me."
The room seemed to go out of focus and Charlie gasped, dropping her tea cup. She didn't even hear it shatter with the buzz. And suddenly everything was clear.
She was no longer in Alastor's room. Or at least not the room they had been in. This was a similar apartment. But darker, grungier. A sharp and harsh smell permeating. She covered her nose.
The Alastor across from her was replaced by a tall, lanky human man. With glasses and mousy hair that fell into his eyes. She gripped the arms of the chair as there was a sharp knock at the door and the man leaped from his seat to answer it.
Opening the door, he grabbed the guest by the front of the shirt, pulling him in and quickly shutting the door behind him.
The guest was shorter, with rounder, rougher features. Something about him seemed familiar to the princess but she could only watch. Transfixed.
"Did you get it?" The bespacled man hissed. His eyes were wide, terrifying, his smile the same.
"Yeah," a familiar voice growled from the shorter man. He seemed cautious, hesitant, as he produced a paper bag from his coat.
The taller man snatched it from his hand and jumped the counter to the stove where a foul smelling pot steamed. His shoulders seemed tense as he emptied the contents of the bag, filling the air with smoke.
The shorter man shuffled his feet, watching. Charlie watched him squeeze his eyes shut before saying, "Hey Al?"
The tall man turned, a manic grin plastered onto his features.
"Yes?"
"Are you…" the man trailed off, his hands clenching. "When's the last time you slept."
Al. Charlie felt the spark of pieces falling into place.
The human Alastor's smile dropped for a moment. His eyes became shiny, as if he might cry. But only a moment before it snapped back into the same forced grin.
"How kind of you Husker, old friend," he announced with too loud of a laugh. She saw the human Husk wince. "No time for that silly nonsense. We're on the brink! THIS! This is everything we've been working towards."
Husker flexed his hand again as Alastor turned back to the pot, humming some out of tune rag to himself. Smoke was filling the room. The human Husker walked around the counter and put a hand on the taller man's shoulder. Alastor whirled around and again his smile seemed to falter, his eyes growing glassy.
"Al," Husker said quietly, squeezing his arm. "It's not...none of them have worked. It's not working." A tear fell down Alastor's cheek. "I know you want her back. I do too. But she wouldn't have wanted to see you like this...If Kat was here right now-"
Husker was cut off as Alastor's hand flew to his throat. He choked, eyes wide, as Alastor tightened his grip, eyes narrowed. "DON'T say her name," he spat. "YOU don't get to say her name."
Husk's eyes rolled, hands scratched at the vice grip on his neck..
Another knock.
Alastor released him, gasping for breath, as his eyes turned to the door.
Another knock.
A voice called, "Ali?"
Charlie watched as Alastor slowly pulled a knife from a drawer, cautiously walking around the counter, his eyes never leaving the door.
"Just a minute!" His voice sounded clear, calm, friendly. As if he were greeting a guest to a party. Terrifying coming from the manic predatory face.
"I know you don't like me dropping by, but they said you hadn't been in to work all week. Bit of a wellness check and all that." The voice cut through the door. Unaware
She watched a human Alistor pause. One hand on the door. The other on his knife. He leaned against the wood, closing his eyes. She saw tears streaming.
With a yank he pulled open the door and grabbed the man on the other side by the shirt. He pulled him in, sinking the knife into his stomach. Closing the door, he shoved him back, twisting the sharp object.
The new visitor gasped, his eyes going wide. Wild dancing eyes framed by dark tired shadows. Charlie recognized him immediately.
Alastor blinked furiously through his tears as he lowered the man gently to the ground.
"I," Nick sputtered. He coughed, spraying droplets of blood into Alastor's face. "I knew it was you."
He coughed again, but smiled, triumphantly. Alastor stumbled back on all fours. Removing his glasses and cleaning them and his face. Tears flowing.
"You were with me every step," he laughed solemnly through his tears.
Nick slammed a fist into the door triumphantly and laughed, wincing as he moved to clutch his gushing wound. "Good show, Ali." He muttered.
Alastor took a breath. Calming himself. He rubbed his eyes and when he looked back up it was the same manic smile and wild eyes. He peeled off his shirt and wrapped it around the wound, tying it tightly despite Nick's hissing. "A tourniquet. Husk will call for help when we're done," he spoke quickly, impatiently.
"If you let me live, I'll end you," Nick's eyes flashed, dangerous.
Alastor dropped his smile for a moment before abandoning him at the door. He rushed back to Husker.
"Its the last thing," he said it quietly to the would-be cat demon. Like it was a secret.
Husker regarded him, eyes full of pity. He opened his mouth to protest but instead rubbed his face. As if willing himself to wake up.
"Al."
"You promised."
"It's not going to work."
"It will."
"Nothings worked, kid."
"This one WILL." Alastor's voice had dropped into a childish southern tantrum. "It will! It has to. It's all for nothing if it doesn't." His smile was gone. He was sobbing. His eyes were wild and flooded with tears as he banged the hilt of the knife onto the table. "All those people, everything I did. It won't mean anything if this doesn't-I have to TRY. You promised. You said you wanted her back."
Charlie watched as Husker froze at the screaming Alastor. He frantically pawed at his eyes, wiping away his tears. When he opened them again, there was nothing but pity.
"I'm not," he muttered quietly, "I'm not...your brother."
Alastor froze in his hysterics, his eyes pleading.
"But you are. Husk you're all I have. You've always been." Alastor hung his head, the knife dropping, clattering to the floor.
Charlie wanted to leap from the chair but felt as though she were tethered to it.
She watched as Alastor covered his face, his body wracked with sobs. She watched Husker pick up the knife. He wrapped his arms around the men and held him for what felt like a lifetime. Then he pulled away, he smiled, he handed him the knife.
Alastor seemed to hesitate for a moment. Husker moved his hand to the countertop, splaying his fingers. He reached over to the stove, grabbing a wooden spoon and putting it between his teeth.
Alastor looked at him, eyes lost and teary. Husker smiled. "It's ok kid."
With a loud thunk, Alastor brought the knife down. Husker screamed into the spoon, teeth clenching hard enough to leave marks. Alastor lifted the severed finger, staring at in in shock. Husker shoved his arm to get him moving, grabbing a towel to wrap around his bleeding hand.
Alastor dropped it into the pot, muttering words in a language Charlie didn't know.
Abandoning the pot he went back to Nick.
"How are you holding up?" He asked as though it wasn't his fault the detective was bleeding out on the floor.
The detective was no longer smiling. "You'll have to kill me."
Alastor shook his head. "No, I won't."
"You won't get away with all this." Nick now looked more tired than usual, his head lolling.
"I already have."
Alastor moved back to the stove. Ladeling out the finger. His face was wild. Frowning, eyes wide, feral.
"Go call someone for Davies," he said to Husk, never looking away from the ladle. Husk hesitated but obliged, rushing for the door.
Alastor carried the ladle back to Nick, kneeling in front of him.
"I am sorry, you know," he said tenderly.
Nick smirked. "It's going to be the dogs."
Alastor smirked back. "They'll have to catch me."
Nick sighed, wincing in pain. "They will. I'm always right. And I always win."
Alastor paused. Fear conflicting with something more pitiful.
Nick reached out a weak hand, grabbing his arm. "You're friend will be back soon. You have a head start," his eyes pleaded. "Take it."
Alastor nodded, turning the ladle to his mouth. Nick retched as he watched Alastor gnash his teeth around the finger. Gagging but powering through. The lights flickered, Nick's attention shot to the radio in the corner as it turned on of it's own accord, static resounding. Alastor hissed, clutching his head. He opened his eyes and looked at Nick in fear, his eyes glowing red. The room seemed out of focus. Alastor ran for the window-
Charlie was sitting in the hotel again, looking at the radio demon. He hadn't moved. Her teacup was still in tact. She was panting.
Alastor held her gaze before standing with a sigh, turning his back to her.
"I'm not angry Princess," he said softly. "I just have an incredible knack for getting things wrong."