"You did what ?!" Vaggie stared at her, slack-jawed.

"I forced Alastor to kiss me," Charlie repeated, feeling defeated by herself.

"Nnnnnngh, Charlie…" Vaggie rubbed her head. "Do you have ANY IDEA how far this probably set us back?! Alastor will never trust you again!"

"I don't think so either." Charlie anxiously scratched her arm.

"Okay, so he may have lost trust in you, but I'm still in his good graces. Maybe if we-"

"Wait!" Charlie exclaimed, getting through the disappointment to remember Alastor's last words. "He wanted us to come over and bring some rye whiskey with us!"

"Rye whiskey?" Vaggie sighed. "Everything can be turned into booze." She immediately changed the topic back. "He specified you too?"

Charlie nodded. "I don't know what he's thinking, but I want to prove to him that the kiss was a lapse in judgment. That I respect his boundaries and will let him set the pace of what we're doing."

"You'd better," Vaggie said lowly. It wasn't a snap, not quite. It still conveyed how unhappy she was with Charlie.

Charlie deserved it.

"Well…" She walked without energy to her closet and began looking for a nice dress, one that was plainer than most to give Alastor back some control. "He said to go over whenever, so we should get ready."

"Don't bother looking for clothes," Vaggie said with an edge in her voice.

Ah. Vaggie wanted her to stay behind. She understood. Charlie stopped rifling through her closet and got down on the ground. She couldn't fight the tears as she thickly said, "I can't believe I messed up so bad. I get why you want to go alone."

"Hey." Vaggie got down next to Charlie. "It isn't that I don't want to go without you. It's more I have an idea of what to wear."

Charlie sniffled. "Really? You want to go with me?"

Vaggie nodded. "And Alastor wants you there. He's careful with his words. If he only wanted me, he would've said so."

That was right. Just like with the deal with her dad, his words meant exactly what he said. If Alastor hadn't wanted her there, he would be up-front about it. He didn't lie, after all.

"Okay." Charlie wiped at her face, trying to get rid of the tears. She stood back up and repeated with more spirit, "Okay! Let's do this."

Vaggie gave her a warm smile. "Let's."

It was harder than they expected to find the rye whiskey. They had to track down Mimzy, who would only help with a heap of money to pay off her new loan sharks. She led them to a hole-in-the-wall in the worst district of the Pride Ring to find a lonely booze operation. They bought several bottles of it to be sure that Alastor had his fill. Even Husk would get drunk on this amount.

It didn't take them long after nabbing the liquor to find themselves outside Alastor's door. They looked at each other, Vaggie nodding at Charlie. Charlie swallowed the disappointment in herself and knocked on the door.

As Alastor had said, the door opened without him. It creaked slowly open as if protesting being used. Charlie readjusted her dress, the same one she wore on their first dinner date, and went ahead. Vaggie trailed behind her.

They went up the stairs to his main living area. Alastor had moved everything out of the middle and put a loveseat and a large couch in their place. A small table blocked the two sets of furniture from each other. He was sitting stock straight on the love seat like a statue or a mannequin. Charlie carefully walked over to him, Vaggie lugging the liquor.

"Here you go. Rye whiskey, as asked for." Vaggie dropped it on the empty space next to Alastor before following Charlie over to the couch. The two of them sat down and waited for Alastor to make the first move.

It took a minute before he did anything, like he hadn't noticed them until then. He reached into the bag and pulled out a large bottle of rye whiskey. A glass appeared in his hand and he poured a generous amount of whiskey in it. The first drink went down slowly. The only noise in the room was him sipping it. He nursed the second one for a minute before it was gone. By the third one, Charlie's butt was starting to go numb.

Finally, he said something.

"You two seem to want something you don't understand." Charlie nearly jumped; the static in his voice was gone. It was a regular voice speaking to them now. It was lighter than she expected. And there was a strange accent that she had no idea what it was. He continued, "I shall educate you. Then you'll know that your mission is a fruitless endeavour."

Charlie squashed the spark of anger at his belittling of their feelings. She knew they shouldn't interrupt, that whatever this conversation, this monologue, was was important. It would've been belittling him in turn to try and interrupt.

"I was a dark-skinned boy in the bayou. I won't bother with cities, you wouldn't know them. No, I'll keep it simple. The bayou, where the poorest of the poor in the rural communities gathered to try and survive with their meager resources. The prejudice we faced for being niggers was more than many could handle. Mother did her best to protect me from that. My mother was my world. Her hard work kept me fed and warm.

"While I was growing up, my mother used to tell me tales of the father that abandoned us. Who ran to the big city and found a new family, a rich family, that he played house with." Alastor downed the glass he had and poured another. "She wasn't bitter. In fact, she was happy for him, for succeeding where most failed. He'd gone up the ranks at whatever job he had and was 'Important'." He snorted. "Important…

"When I was twelve, I tracked him down. I told my mother I wanted to meet him, that I wanted to see if he could help us." Another sip. "My plan was different than what I told her. You see…" For the first time, he looked at them. The red dials and blackness had overtaken his eyes. " I killed them. All of them. His wife, my half-siblings, that bastard of a father of mine. Even the servants weren't spared my wrath. " He blinked and his eyes were back to normal. "I then stole everything that looked like it was worth something. There was a lot of gold. So much gold…

"I sold it all for bottom dollar. The murders were sensational news. There wasn't anyone alive in the state that didn't hear of it. It made the loot worth less than dirt." Another glass empty. Another pour. "There were still buyers. Melting the gold down was still worth money, and untraceable once done. It was enough money to help my mother find a better house in a better neighborhood. To allow us both to go to school. She was devastated by my father's death. I don't think she ever got over it. I also don't think she believed me that I got the money before he died.

"After that, I got the taste of blood . Seeing the life fade from their eyes was a delight that I'd never experienced. At thirteen I found a prostitute that was spreading disease like Typhoid Mary. I used her to practice my knife skills. Skinned her alive, then burned her body. Her tormented screams were a delight to my ears." He sighed like he was recounting a wonderful memory. "My needs grew more, and more, until I earned a moniker for my murders. 'The Bayou Killer'. Very uncreative.

"I think it was my fourth serial murder when my mother caught on. I was always gone on 'work trips' whenever a murder happened. Looking back, I did an awful job of covering my tracks. I never outright lied to her. I did, indeed, have work trips! But the murders were my true aim, my art form. Whenever I killed, I felt like I was making a difference.

"Then one day, my mother wanted to go hunting with me. It wasn't too unusual; we occasionally went hunting for meat. The guns were my father's before he abandoned us." A sad smile came to his face. "I managed to bag a rather handsome buck. Per our tradition, I cut out and ate its heart. Then I heard the rifle cock." He indicated a shot to the head. "My mother's last words: 'I'm sorry.'. Like she regretted putting down a monster like myself." He finished off a bottle. Then, with a whip of his arm, the bottles flew across the room and shattered against the wall.

Charlie fought with herself. What he'd done was truly monstrous. At the same time, his reactions told her that he regretted it all somewhat. That he had some remorse for what he did. Some of it, anyway.

Everyone deserved a second chance. And the man that Charlie had learned about, had come to care about, deserved it most of all.

"Now that you know what I've done, you must agree with her." Alastor said that with assurance in his non-accented static-y voice. He started to transform, growing and breaking limbs to tower over them with green magic flowing around him. " This act of mine is just that: an act. If it suits me, I'll tear you apart, laugh as I EAT YOUR SOULS, let your screams echo over my radio broadcast until you finally are nothing in my stomach. " He snarled, " You're just pieces in my game. Once my deal with Lucifer ends with him breaking this pact, I will enjoy making you pay for your treatment of me. "

There was one thing Charlie was sure of after his threats: this was the first time Alastor had ever outright lied. She exchanged glances with Vaggie, hoping that she saw through it too, that she wouldn't say the key word. A nod reassured her of the fact.

Alastor towered above them, a mad grin on his face, waiting for them to do something. " Well? Where is your spear, Vaggie? The rage at my sins? Knowing that I'm an unrepentant monster? "

He was obviously trying to push them away. Trying to rebuild the shell that had broken down somewhat with their work and care.

The two women got up at once. They split up, going around the table towards Alastor. He stood, prepared for them to attack, tentacles flailing in readiness. Charlie was certain he didn't expect what they gave him.

They both wrapped him in a hug, Vaggie bringing out her wings to fly up and hug his torso. Charlie could only reach his legs. They hugged him for all they were worth.

" W…what are you doing? " The words were uncertain, confused. He snarled loudly, "I'M A MONSTER! You should hate me!"

Vaggie was the one to answer him. "How can we hate someone we care for so much?"

Alastor stumbled back as if struck. Then he screamed. The soundwaves battered the two women, almost making them fly backwards away from him. They both held firm.

Alastor deflated like a balloon. Vaggie didn't have to keep flying to hug him. Slowly the horns retracted, the tentacles vanished, his eyes returned to the red that they normally were. Steam was rising from his smiling mouth, his gaze locked on the ceiling. He wearily said, "I don't understand. I simply don't . How can you care for a creature like me?"

"You're no creature," Charlie whispered in his ear. "You're Alastor, our partner. We've learned so much about you, the you behind that mask of devious hate."

"I forced you into it," he croaked. "I trapped Lucifer in a deal!"

"It's okay," Charlie soothed, not quite sure what to say to that.

They stood like that for a while. Alastor didn't say anything, nor did he cry. He was in disbelief. Finally, he pulled away from them. Stumbling, he righted himself a couple of meters away, arms hanging limply. He turned to them. "You two…are so confusing. I really, really don't get it."

"You don't have to. Not right now," Charlie said. "I'm sure as we go along you'll understand better."

Alastor was still again. Then he let out a tired laugh. "It will be a pleasure to learn."

Charlie and Vaggie held hands, looking at each other with success. Then Alastor looked at them and their jaws dropped.

He wasn't smiling. Instead, he was frowning like he had bad news.

"Charlie…" He took a big breath. "I made a deal with Li-"

Ching!

Suddenly Alastor was hoisted up. Golden threads were squeezing him, trapping him, playing with his limbs like he was a puppet. Alastor was twitching in pain, small gasps escaping his lips. Lips that were forced into a rictus smile, the threads pulling hard at the corners of his mouth. They drew blood along his body, cutting lines into his clothes. A chain led from nowhere to his neck where a collar was pulling tight against his throat.

Charlie and Vaggie raced over, ready to cut the threads, when they vanished as fast as they'd appeared. Alastor fell to the floor, bleeding all over from the injuries he'd sustained. He was facing down, trying to breathe as he rubbed where the collar had been.

"Alastor?" Charlie reached out to help him up.

He shoved her hand away and stood on his own. He adjusted his clothes like they weren't wrecked and bloody. A wide open-mouth smile greeted them, his teeth glinting strangely. Alastor exclaimed, "My goodness! That was quite the experience."

"Alastor, what was that?" Vaggie asked.

"Oh, that was nothing," he replied, waving his hand. As if a thought occurred to him, he said, "I have a wonderful idea for a date night!" He urged them out with shadow tentacles. "I must clean myself up, but if you two go change into those delightful flapper dresses, we can go have a night on the town!" His smile was obviously forced, unnaturally wide and manic. His tentacles lessened their strength down the stairs to make sure they didn't trip. Alastor called out, "I'll see you shortly, my dear brides!" The door opened on its own and, once they crossed the threshold, closed the door in their faces.

Vaggie frowned, brows coming together, as she tried to go into his tower.

Nothing. The door was stuck shut, the doorknob refusing to turn.

"Dammit…" Vaggie swore. "We were so close to reaching him."

Charlie sighed, disappointed. "I know."