I own nothing. But I am excited to fabricate how Husk made a deal with Al in the first place.
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Alastor breathed in the hot air of Hell from outside the front door. He had transported himself before he could even think. He felt as though his whole body was electric. Alert. So many things swirled within him in such an unfamiliar way. He was….embarrassed?
Nodding to himself in agreement, he tucked his cane under his arm and began to stroll away from the hotel. That was it, he was embarrassed. He didn't expect to be caught so off-guard by the princess. He shared so few intimate moments with anyone, it was a quick jolt to the system, so to speak.
His head held a little higher he began to whistle, his stride growing more confident for a few steps before with a yelp, he tripped. He stumbled and gained his bearings before going down, and immediately looked around for the culprit, sighing in annoyance at his shadow.
Deer demon and deer demon's shadow glared at each other for a moment before Alastor gave a defeated sigh. "Well what did we expect old friend," he forced a smile, regarding the shadow cooly. "We already knew she wouldn't remember. It was silly to think a bowl of jambalaya would move heaven and hell."
The shadow swirled around him, kicking up a wind that tousled his ears. Alastor gave a dark chuckle as he adjusted his fur. "Yes, yes she said she loved it. And I suppose heaven doesn't account for lack of taste. It's funny that it only took death to finally match her recipe."
A soft song began to play from his microphone cane. He immediately recognized it. "What a Wonderful World." Images flashed through his mind.
His mother in the kitchen, sweating over the hot stove, smiling, wiping her brow with her apron, singing the song into her spoon in between stirring. Alastor, young and human, humming along and laughing, batting her hand away as her fingers tousled his hair, smelling of garlic and spice. She offered him the spoon but yanked it back with a playful tsk, demanding he sing along if he wanted to taste. The cheeky young boy, Alastor could hardly remember him, took a snap at the piece of pork and mumbled the lyrics through a full mouth. His mother grabbed him by the chin, stern but smiling, and reminded him that a gentleman didn't talk with their mouth full. They both laughed.
His absent smile widened. His demon form was drastically different from his earthly appearance...but the angel...his mother...she still looked exactly as he had remembered. It was strange to see her hair out of a ribbon, and the weariness had been taken from her face, but those were still her eyes. And the angelic tinkle of her voice was new but the sing-songy nature was not. And when she had touched his cheek he felt human again. As if all the restlessness in him had disappeared.
He was standing over the stove, stirring a pot of Jambalaya. His smart suit was adorned with a frilly pink apron. He took a sip, scowled, and threw the spoon at the wall in frustration.
"Hey hey hey!" His mother's voice made him jump. He spun to see her slipping into her worn coat, eyebrows furrowed, muttering French frustrations under her breath before pointedly picking up the spoon and brandishing it at him. "We don't throw things. We ain't got much so we're gonna be nice to what we have."
He sheepishly muttered an apology, taking the spoon and moving to the sink to rinse it off. "I didn't mean it mama. I just can't get it right. And I promised the boys at the network some good home cooking and I just….I'm trying to make an impression you know?"
She didn't drop her frown on principle, but it softened as she moved to taste his concoction. She winced. "Why didn't you tell me? I would've-"
"The network party is tonight. Everyone from the radio show is gonna be there. I wanted them to remember me for more than something like bringing their coffee and benets and you had to work down at Ciella's...I thought I could do it. You're already late."
His mother's face softened into a warm smile. She tossed her coat over the back of a chair and moved to take the spoon back. "I can be late, I'll help." He opened his mouth to protest but she touched his cheek and smiled wider. "Just remember this when you're big and famous. It's not a favor, it's an investment."
Alastor touched his cheek lovingly at the memory. He finally got it right. And she hadn't lied. It seems the secret ingredient had been love and care all along. He paused in his aimless path and regarded his shadow again, which was staring at him, a firmer look on its face. It crossed it's arms and he felt another jolt.
She hadn't only complimented his cooking. She had also..
He felt a shiver at the thought. His own mother called him a serial killer. A cannibal. A-
He put his gloved hands against his temples as the feeling became overwhelming and suddenly he knew exactly what it was.
Shame.
More images flew through his head, these ones making him more and more sick to his stomach.
A human Alastor, around 22, snatching his mother into a twirl, humming her favorite song. "I see skies of blue, red roses too." His mother laughed and batted him away. " Jambalaya, plates set for two," he continued to sing along to the tune. She eyed him suspiciously.
"Who are you entertaining tonight Ali?" She said sternly, but she couldn't hold back the smile.
His smile grew impossibly wide. He dropped the singing and made his announcement. "Frank Wilson is coming by! I promised him a home cooked meal, my mother's award winning jambalaya," he pinched her cheek, showing more charismatic resemblance to the horned demon of his future. "He's got quite the deal for me and I'm ready to shake the devil's hand. I get my boss fired for hitting the bottle too hard and then it's easy street mama."
She smacked his hand away with a frown. "What on EARTH are you going on about?"
His smile only widened. "My boss Hank is hitting the bottle a little hard since his mama got sick. Shirking his duties, all that. And it turns out he owes Frank quite a bit in...filling up boots, if you catch my drift," he gave her a wink. Alcohol being made illegal during the prohibition hadn't gotten rid of it, just made it more of a privilege for the wealthy, as most knew. "So I put the dogs nose on his indiscretions, Frank, gets a cut down in the competition for his own business, YOU get a new coat, and I," Alistor took off his hat with a flourish, "Well Mama I get the whole damned radio show."
The sharp crack of the spoon across his mouth shook him more than the pain. His smile was lost as he touched his stinging jaw, wide eyes fixed bewildered on his angry mother. She held the spoon up, ready for another strike. A string of French curses coming from her.
Finally she snapped. "I raised you better than that. Hank has been nothing but good to you and he's having trouble. The nerve of you to kick a man while he's down. And to work with a criminal like Frank no less-"
"Mama you always say you can't con an honest man. It's not my fault he's fallen off the straight an narrow and this is gonna be good for us. I'm not followin' in the man's footsteps. One deal isn't going to damn me."
She regarded him sternly. Unwavering.
Alastor's face stretched into a grin. A devilish charm oozing from him. "Come on, mama, it's just one-"
"I don't even recognize you like this…" Her words made the smile slide off his face. "I'm disappointed in you Ali." And with that, she turned her back to him and left him alone in the kitchen.
Alastor felt as though he would cry. His chest tight, he couldn't breathe. His mother was here. And she didn't have all these memories. She only knew him for what he was. A sadistic, cruel, terrible disappointment.
All around him insignias formed, the world became static, his vision blurred.
"Al," he could have sworn he heard, but the buzz of a radio searching for a station drowned out the outside world.
"Al!"
His shadow grew, as did his horns. He turned with an animalistic snarl, a monstrous creature.
Husk stood unimpressed. He met the demon's eyes with a casual swig of his bottle. The static started to fade and Alastor slid slowly back into his normal state.
"It's Kathrine right?" the cat growled. "They sent your mom down?"
Alastor nodded with half lidded eyes.
The cat demon sighed and held the bottle out to Alastor. The Radio Demon was moved by the gesture but still waved it away.
"Charlie's a mess back at the hotel. She don't know nothing but she knows she upset you. I'm surprised you held it together this long. They don't change angels much, I recognized her 'bout as quick as I figure you did." He took another swig and hiccuped. "You must be proud you scared the feathered freaks enough to call your mom on you."
Alastor gave a weak chuckle, adjusting his monocle. He was grateful for Husker's friendship, despite the insincerity of the obligation. "I suppose you know I'd rather keep this between us."
Husk smirked before turning tail and starting to slowly trudge away. "Don't know or care what you mean."
Alastor smiled before disappearing into the shadows.
