AN: And now it's almost the end! The next chapter will be coming soon with information on the split ending. Hope you enjoy!

"Good lord! What do you weigh? A ton?"

Alastair tried to shove 'Sut off of himself but the cat only decided that it would then be a great idea to dig in with her claws.

"You just revel in my misery don't you?" growled out Alastair.

The cat meowed in response. Alastair let out a small snort and finally picked her up by the scruff, making sure to unhook her paws from himself before dragging her off. He almost put her back on the bed but when she gave him another mournful meow, he rolled his eyes and instead pulled her in close to his chest.

"Alright, I'll deal with you for a bit," Alastair sighed. He swung his legs from the bed and walked through his home until he was in the kitchen, 'Sut comfortably resting on his shoulder.

James was away on a mission for the moment, leaving the place all to Alastair. The quit atmosphere and calmer air was surprisingly welcoming and no longer frightening or dreaded. Alastair knew he wasn't alone, therefore getting time to himself was an enjoyable time.

Normally he would have rush through his morning routine and into work but he was still healing from wounds received from his last mission with James. He'd have to remember that getting out of the way of angry gorillas was definitely a priority instead of trying to grab a smuggler.

The change from the Amazon back to England had also been a bit to quick as Alastair swore he was starting to come down with something. That certainly wouldn't do. He'd need to get back to Kingsman as soon as he could.

After starting a pot of tea, he went into the living room where he began a fire and waited until the teapot was whistling.

Taking his time for once, though mainly to not rip any stitches out, Alastair gathered himself in a chair near the fireplace. His cup of tea still letting off steam, Hatshepsut sat in his lap as he unfolded the morning newspaper. Upon seeing that there was nothing of immediate interest, he instead went to reading.

Though never his forte, James really had forced him into the realm of fantasy. Though still believing the most well written books to be laughable and some point or another, he had to admit that they were enjoyable on slower days. With the Harry Potter series finished, James had shoved into his hands one night Eragon and Alastair had picked it up from time to time.

Nevertheless, as noon arrived, the day became more interesting. Alastair had just finished feeding 'Sut and his own lunch when someone hit the buzzer. Immediately, Alastair knew it couldn't be James, Lily, or Kenton as those three rarely announced their entrances. Roxy, Nnenna, James' sister-in-law, and Sarah were also out as they weren't currently in the country and his father never would have come with ringing first.

The most likely option would be someone from Kingsman coming due to some sort of urgent business. With that in mind, Alastair made sure he was armed just in case but quickly opened the door without checking, expecting perhaps Merlin or another agent in front of him.

He was quite disappointed in what he saw instead. He had half a mind to just throw the door shut. A childish maneuver but nevertheless amusing. Instead, he forced himself past any of that and instead opened the door a little weirder with a rather indifferent face.

"Mother, I thought I'd be hearing from you never."

"Now, Alastair there's no reason to—"

"Whatever you're about to finish stop it because we both know it's not true." Alastair let out a soft sigh though. "Whether you're here to squabble or actually say something intelligent just…just come on in. I'm to tired to do whatever this is right here."

"Are you-you alright?"

"I'm fine. Not that you really care," muttered Alastair as he walked back towards the living room. He sat down and 'Sut automatically reclaimed her spot in his lap. Alastair just barely kept from laughing at his mother's face.

"You hate cats."

"Still do but this bastard just won't leave," Alastair said with a slight chuckle. "So, why are you here? I thought you claimed you would never come again."

"Things do change Alastair."

"Not for you. You don't change your mind. Not ever."

"Well I still think that you being this way isn't normal and—"

"That's a relief. I thought you might have changed."

"Son—"

"I stopped being your son when you decided to walk out on my family," replied Alastair. "Now why are you here?"

"I-I'm dying. I'll be dead in less than three months."

"Hmm, and why come to me?"

"Because you're my—because I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of this to happen. I'm just so-so sorry!"

"I forgive you."

"What?!"

"I said I forgive you. Did you want a big row? For me to get angry? Scream or cry?" asked Alastair easily.

"Of-of course not!"

"Good, because if I had, it would have simply meant that I had turned out just like you. Thankfully I haven't." Alastair could have quite easily broken her then and there. The thought was certainly tempting and made him smile but there was the simple fact that it would have disproven exactly what he'd just said. Instead, he did something that, though less enjoyable in that moment, would not leave a tarnished mark.

Alastair asked, "Are you comfortable?"

"As much as I can be," she replied, clearly unsure of where this was going.

"So you don't need anything?"

"No."

"Then I ask you not to come here again unless that changes. I hope your last months are good ones," Alastair replied evenly. "Now, if you'd be so kind, I have matters to attend to."

He stood up and his mother mimicked him. Whether it was because she was actually respecting his words or was just in shock, it was difficult to tell but Alastair didn't let that bother him. Instead, he guided her back to the door and said, "Goodbye mother. May your last days be painless ones."

Not waiting to see what her reaction would be, Alastair closed the door and went back to his seat. Part of himself regretted not blowing up at the woman. But that would have been causing misery for no reason. In the end, he had his life, people who loved him, and as difficult as it was to get to that moment in time, the past did not hold as much weight as it once had. He was not alone and bitter but happy and content.

And truthfully, leaving things like that felt much more resolute than that last time, years ago.

Alastair let out a sigh, body relaxing as he picked up his book and began reading again. The only thing that would disturb him would be the cat who would later decide his head was a better resting spot than his lap. Other than that, his day was peaceful.