Alastor got to his radio tower and slammed the door. A hand to his head to make sure it was still attached. As he walked further and further away from Charlie's room, the more his body delved more and more into chaos. He felt like his body had been set on fire and there wasn't enough water in the world to put him out. His heart was drumming so hard it was painful. His vision blurred as he stumbled over to his chair. Sudden vertigo made him lose the contents of his stomach on his floor, splattering on his shoes. He fell in the chair, dribbles of vomit landing on his jacket. This must be what a druggie feels when they're cleaning the drugs out of their system, Alastor assumed. No hangover he's ever had came close to what he was feeling now.

He looked up and saw Charlie enter his room. She looked at him with a panicked look and ran over to him.

"Charlie?" Alastor reached out a hand for her, desperate to reach her. He felt like he was drowning in the ocean and she was the only safety jacket left. Right before she reached out to touch his face, she dissipated into thin air. He was officially hallucinating. His chest rose and fell as he looked around his room, looking for something to calm him down. At this rate he was going to black out in mere minutes. He began to have tunnel vision and realized that there was nothing he could do. He began to strip off his jacket and unbutton his dress shirt at a feeble attempt to cool off before he lost consciousness.

Alastor opened his eyes and realized that he was standing in his kitchen. His kitchen in New Orleans. He looked down at his clothes and saw that his red suit was replaced with a white button down with dark brown khakis. His dress shoes shined brightly, the kitchen lights making them sparkle. He looked at his hands and instead of claws he saw human skin. He swirled around and everything looked the same.

"Alastor honey? Everything alright?"

He turned so quickly he almost lost his footing. Standing at the threshold of the kitchen entryway, was his mother. She looked the exact same as when he was younger, with a few wrinkles added. Her emerald eyes twinkled as she gave him a warm smile. Alastor felt his bottom lip tremble as he ran over and embraced her.

"Mama." He said into her shoulder. He felt tears flowing steady down his face, landing on her light blue blouse. She wrapped her arms around his upper body and squeezed him tightly.

"Shh shh you're ok my little Beignet. Everything's ok." She soothed in his ear. His knees felt weak but made himself stay upright. He didn't want to leave her embrace so soon.

"I'm so sorry, mama. I'm so sorry." Alastor sobbed so hard he could barely get the words out. All of the stress and anger seeped out of him and was replaced by sheer devastation. He wanted her forgiveness more than anything, but knew he didn't deserve it. She pulled back so she could have her green eyes meet his brown ones.

"Baby you have nothin' to be sorry for. You did nothin' wrong!" She placed a wrinkled hand on his cheek and Alastor was quick to cover hers with his own.

"I should've stopped him. I should've done more. I should've-" Cecile shook her head as she let her hand reach the back of his head, her fingers delving into his chestnut brown hair.

"You were a boy. There was nothing you could've done. I'm sorry that you had to see me like that." Her eyes started to pool as she watched her son fall apart. He felt snot leaking from his nose but couldn't care less.

"I didn't know what to do. I was afraid he was going to kill me next."

"I know, baby. You did what you had to to survive. How could I be angry with you for that?"

Alastor stared at her face so intently he was sure that if anyone else was watching, they would think of him as insane. He was just trying to remember every line, every mole, every crevice of her face. He did everything he could to burn her image into his brain forever.

"I killed him." Alastor sounded like a little boy again. She craned her head to one side, still lovingly combing his hair with her fingers.

"I'm not mad at you. You did what you had to to survive." She repeated.

"I killed others." Alastor felt like someone was stabbing him in the chest with every word he said. He had never been ashamed of his indiscretions until this moment. This must be what normal people felt when they did something wrong.

"I know." She nodded.

"I...I'm a monster." Alastor coughed from the snot falling back into his throat. His head began to pound with pressure that felt like a jackhammer.

"You're my son. You're just lost." He tried to calm his breathing by matching his chest rising and falling with her own.

"Please help me." Alastor grasped her shoulders desperately. He regressed back into a little boy who just needed his mother to fix things for him. She took his hands and gently took them off, holding them firmly.

"I'm not the one who can help you." She smiled and looked over Alastor's shoulder just in time for the door behind him to open. He turned around and saw Charlie standing there. She wasn't wearing her pantsuit, but rather a lovely pink spring dress that went to her ankles. Black heels to give her some extra height, Alastor noticed. Her hair wasn't in it's usual ponytail either. It was free flowing down on the front of both shoulders. Slightly wavy and beyond silky. What really got him was how she was looking at him. She was seeing him like he was the only person in the world. Her smile lit up the entire room and he felt his heart ache with want.

"Charlie?" He choked out. She nodded wordlessly and held out her arms for him to embrace her. He would rather lose an arm than to deny that offer. He held her like he would never see her again.

"She has been doing just fine at helping you." His mother's voice rang out from behind him. He buried his face in Charlie's hair and breathed deeply. Her hair smelled like strawberries and sunlight. It was something he could easily become intoxicated on.

"We don't have much time, Alastor." He heard Charlie's voice for the first time and it brought him out of his daze. He pulled his face back to look her in the eyes. They were filled with worry and he wanted nothing more than to get rid of that worry.

"We could stay here, Charlie." He pleaded. Some part of him knew that this wasn't even real, but he couldn't stop his heart from wanting. This was his own personal heaven and he didn't want to lose it. He felt like he would die all over again if he did.

"You know we can't. Things are about to happen and I need you." Charlie rose on the tip of her high heels and planted a soft kiss to his cheek.

"What things? What's happening?" He turned to his mother who hadn't moved a muscle.

"You need to fight this, Alastor." His mother said sternly. He shook his head, absolutely confused about what was happening. The atmosphere was changing rapidly and he nearly felt dizzy by the sudden change. He turned back to Charlie only to see that she was gone. He looked around the kitchen and she was no where to be found.

"What do I do? What's happening, mama?" He asked frantically. He needed to get back to Charlie. The real Charlie.

"You need to fight this, Alastor." She said again. He raked both hands through his hair and felt a twinge of pain. He brought his hands down and saw that his claws were back.

"No. No no no." He felt the panic fill his heart again as he returned his hands back to his hair and felt two soft ears perch from atop his head.

"Alastor you need to listen to me. Now." Alastor shook his head as he looked back up at his mother. She wasn't as solid as she was before. She was borderline see through and dread engulfed him.

"Don't leave!" He yelled, trying to grasp her hand but it only grabbing air.

"The wound in your chest is not healed." He looked down and noticed black blood seep through his jacket. He placed a hand to the stain that was growing larger and larger.

"Charlie healed me." He mumbled. What was happening? He knew Charlie had healed him! Unless she didn't heal him all the way. That could be why...

"Is that why I feel this way? Why I feel this for her?" He choked back another sob. Yet another reminder that he was incapable of having true feelings for another person. If anyone deserved to be cared for, it was Charlie. He couldn't bare the thought that his feelings weren't real. He knew they weren't, not truly, but he fooled himself into a false sense of security.

"No, it's not. The wound is making you weak though. After that heals properly, you need to face him. He did this to you." Her voice sounded like she was 3 rooms away. Alastor could barely make out what she was saying.

"He? He who?" Now he was completely lost. It was a he who did this to him?

"You will find the answer from the beginning of it all. Really focus, Alastor. Her life depends on it."

Wait. Her life?

"Her? You mean Charlie's?" Alastor could barely make out the vision of his mother anymore. The walls of the kitchen started to peel away like paint, a black abyss was the only thing beyond it. His heaven was falling apart before his eyes.

"Go to the beginning, Alastor. Save her and you will in turn save yourself." She whispered out as she evaporated into thin air. Before Alastor could react, the surroundings of the kitchen melted away along with the floor. He started to fly in freefall.

Alastor woke up in a cold sweat. He gasped for air desperately, clutching his chest. He looked around and saw that he was back at his Radio tower. His vomit was still on the ground, completely solidified by now. He smelled like a dying goat and he felt like he got hit by a truck. He needed a shower to clear his head. What kind of hallucination was that? He shook his head and figured that maybe Lucifer had made him conk his head a bit harder than he realized. He stood up carefully and made his way to his bathroom. He looked into the mirror and snarled his top lip in disgust. He really did look terrible. He noticed more vomit on his shirt and it made him sick to his stomach again.

Wait. That wasn't vomit.

He quickly peeled off his soaking wet jacket and dress shirt to find the source of the stain. His wound had festered into something rotten. Golden veins that were once small and dainty now resembled spider legs. They were stretched out from his wound that was now oozing black blood. He let out a shaky breath as he let a single finger touch it. It stung like acid and he doubled over in pain.

It wasn't a hallucination. It was real and he needed to find Charlie now.