Side Story I - Similar, not the same (IV).

"Pick up."

Rosie was tapping her feet on the carpet with a fury rarely seen.

"Pick the damn phone, Anastasia."

It had been an hour and some change now. Rosie had managed to go downstairs, a smile on her face, to ensure everything was fine. Luckily for her, everyone had been quite understanding when she requested for the crowd to disperse. It was normal that having another of Franklin's little escapades would make things difficult at the Emporium. What with the humans around, this was far too much for Rosie to control. There was a literal new little village, perhaps even a town in the future, being made. Rosie was well loved and known to be a great mind, but a single person can only do so much.

If nothing else Rosie loved that her people, by and large, saw her in such a good light. Well, except Susan and a few others, but fuck Susan. Damn old crone would outlive Hell.

But now? Now Rosie had her phone next to her ear and her hat far away. She wanted a damn fucking shower and something sweet, again. Her nerves were frayed and her patience nonexistent. She needed to get this out of her chest and the person responsible for Rosie's previous episode was the only one she could think of.

Probably helped that she was also the shrink she wanted to drag in front of the family. She could always use that as an excuse.

"If you don't pick the fucking phone, Anastasia, I swear I'll-!"

A click was heard and Rosie held her breath.

"Anastasia Newmaw speaking. I am sorry to inform you, but I am not taking new clients for now."

"..." Rosie let out a relieved sigh. "And old friends?"

There were, at this point, precious few people Rosie trusted implicitly. And after Franklin's fuckup? Despite her care and camaraderie with many of those under her wing, Rosie had to admit she was much like Alastor with how few she could truly call friends.

Anastasia was one such soul. And she sounded clearly happy to hear Rosie's voice.

"Rosie. It has been a while."

Although the tiredness on the younger woman's tone was not a welcome sound. It made Rosie think of herself if she didn't have her powers and abilities. Anastasia was just as engrossed and constant in her work as Rosie was, but with none of the strength Rosie had at her beck and call.

"It sounds like you are half dead, my dear." Rosie checked the grandfather clock near the entrance. "It is barely half past two."

That reminded her. She needed to eat. Her stomach was rumbling and her previous anger was still around. She was not going to lose it and eat the next person she saw.

Probably.

"And you sound like you want to throttle someone." Anastasia snickered on the phone. "I know your inflections, Rosie. You know mine. And I know you hate me for it."

Rosie let a single, and most undignified, snort escape her lips. "Ah, shod off you witch. Don't go psychoanalyzing me just yet."

"Just yet?" The voice of Anastasia held no small amount of wonder. "Why Rosie, it has been almost two months and you reach for me with more work?"

"Oh, I do have work for you. I wish you'd return from working with those Sinners." Rosie grimaced.

The Overlord wasn't against helping those less fortunate, though she was very much pragmatic about it. She was against helping assholes that had their minds broken because they got caught by their victims and utterly destroyed.

Anastasia wasn't innocent either. That is why Rosie didn't complain. "I need to test this, Rosie. If it works we can recover the few good souls that suffer from these wounds. You… know why."

"... I do, yes." Rosie felt uncomfortable at the memory. Better let that go. "It is just… sometimes it feels so distant. The memory of that day when you returned, covered in blood, dragging bodies and a living human attached to your hip."

"..." Rosie knew she had said too much the moment those words left her lips. "You haven't mentioned Alan in years. Not if I don't bring him up first at least."

Rosie wasn't even willing to suppress it this time. "It still bothers me, Anastasia."

"Which means you wouldn't have called, and you wouldn't have mentioned him, without a reason." Rosie could hear Anastasia's claws clicking on wood. She kept that little tell of hers. "What happened? Not even my daughters have given me a holler in a while, not even Eve has checked on her ol' little grammama after Extermination. That is quite strange in and on itself."

Rosie took a deep breath before speaking of the latest Extermination. The appearance of the Tower was what caught Anastasia's attention, then the Deal, Lucifer's involvement… Rosie could hear Anastasia taking notes as she spoke of the humans and the clear signs some of them demonstrated of requiring Anastasia's expertise.

Anastasia's reaction became more frantic and tense, Rosie could hear it in how forceful her writing was the moment the Overlord brought Franklin up. A quick 'you should've gotten rid of her instead of working with the bitch' was all Rosie got from her friend, a sentiment Rosie was, sadly, sharing right now. But Franklin was not the problem, not fully. That whore just made the last push for Rosie to crumble. Anastasia was aware that Rosie's outburst came from something else.

"My love would've been glad, you know? That I learned as I did and became better like this." Anastasia always spoke with such fondness of the man. Cannibals do remarry, but some find it impossible. Anastasia was of those that chose to have no more than one lover. Rosie knew why. "But he would've been sad to know he had such an effect on you. I guess that is one more regret for the two of us; not properly talking with him about it. Sooner, I mean."

"Anastasia…"

"Rosie." Few could be this curt with Rosie and expect anything other than anger. Anastasia only tested her luck when necessary. And this? Necessary was an understatement. "You said it has been just a few days."

"Ten days now."

"But he made an impression."

"Just like Alan. He is far too nice, he is loyal, he has a lot of love to give, he is trying to open up to us… And has such bloodlust and darkness hidden within."

Anastasia chuckled. "Yes he sounds like my husband." Anastasia let out a sigh of longing. At least she recovered quickly. "Alan was a great man. I remember the day I got him to have a proper meal." The woman on the phone let out another sigh. "But this is different."

"I know. If I was stupid I would ask 'Because it is your granddaughter this time instead of you, old friend?' and expect you to solve it all." Rosie rubbed her forehead. She didn't like this situation one bit. "But I know the problem I have." A simple and straightforward one. "I made a Deal with him. I own his soul. Whatever I could get wouldn't feel as I want it to."

Rosie was a monster. She knew that. Funnily enough, she also knew this wasn't a problem with Carlos. The man was more understanding than most humans. Being born a monster himself, whether he knew it or not, probably helped.

It was why most of the family was both uneasy and comfortable around demons: It was what they were made for. With Heaven's apparent betrayal it was just much easier to ignore the former and go with the later, accepting that Hell and its denizens were a far better choice. And for Carlos? It had been salvation in a way.

"If I asked, would he feel obligated?" Rosie ignored those thoughts and tried to simplify the problem. "Would he ask to wait and see? Or would he push back?"

"Depends." Anastasia scribbled something else on her end. "But you know he is not the only one you have to ask."

"No, he isn't. He already has a gathering around him. More importantly: Evelinde. I am largely ambivalent about the other two. I like them, don't get me wrong, but Evelinde comes first. I will not hurt that girl." Rosie frowned. Much like Anastasia, she wouldn't do away with the competition. That wasn't how she worked. True that there had been days when she thought she'd have to kill Evelinde for her actions and disobedience, but the young Cambion always made it worth her time. That… still made Rosie think she owed more than just sincerity to the young woman. "But we both know why I am as I am."

"It is not the man itself that makes you feel this way. Or perhaps he is, in a way. It is too early to call it anything but infatuation." Rosie knew Anastasia was nodding on the other side of the line. "But what you truly want, NOW, is what he represents."

Rosie could feel her heart sink. "And it bothers me so much, Anastasia. The young man has had even worse luck than me in that particular regard." She let out a tired chuckle. "Fuck, Ana. Overlords shouldn't be this weak."

"You aren't weak, Rosie." Anastasia felt the need to point out the obvious. "You are a strong woman in mind and body. A weak one would have abused their power and not cared. We are in Hell. We are hellborn. We are Cannibals. To many, we are pests, animals, instinct driven fools." That last part was true. Much of Pride, much of Hell, thought the Cannibals to be less than most other hellborn. Many Cannibals behaving as they did was no help in that regard. "But we know better. If we weren't you would've killed me and your last husband to take what was mine at the time and make it yours. If you were a lesser woman, a lesser demon, you would have taken my granddaughter's place and asserted your own dominance now. You would have gone back to the woman you once were. We know 'weak' is the last thing you are, Rosie. Except in your heart and dreams that is."

"..." Rosie took a moment to clear her head. Anastasia was right. "Your opinion then. As a friend. As a professional. I want both."

"Both are the same. Talk with him. Talk with my granddaughter. And when the time comes? Talk with ALL of them. Tell them as much as you want, you have my blessing for that. Doing any less will endanger your sanity, their safety and your grip in Pentagram in the long run. All of those will hurt you and our kin more than you'd ever be able to forgive yourself for." Anastasia offered in a very flat tone. No emotions here, just what she thought would help. "Evelinde loves him for what he has done, for what she sees he could do and become, and because she will kill herself trying to help him achieve that. She wants to be a princess and she wants him to be her knight. Evelinde will carve Hell for him if she has fallen as you said she has."

"As for you? You are deprived, Rosie. You don't love the man, you love the man he reminds you of. Will you learn to love him? Perhaps. But you aren't as easy to woo as my granddaughter, much as I dislike to paint her in such a bad light. You do tend to fall for the wrong person while also having too big a heart to take what you want or to get rid of what hurts you, however." A flaw in Hell, but one of the reasons why Rosie was loved by many that knew her. "You are projecting Alan on someone that reminds you of him, and that offers you a chance to have SOMETHING similar to what you wanted with my husband."

Rosie groaned. "Don't make it sound that bad, Anastasia." She felt mortified. "And do remember: You gave me your blessing to try, you bitch."

"I do remember. Just like I remember you were married at the time too, Rosie. It is as bad as it sounds. At least for mortals." Anastasia chuckled. "Though I do remember telling you to kill that bastard. A poser and a user, that is all he was. An insect to put on a glass case at best."

"And that is how he died in the end. As a worthless reminder pinned to a wall. A reminder that it was MY fault he became that way." Rosie snarled at that memory. Bad man after bad man. And the good? Never for her to have. But when the bad man was originally good and hers? Rosie fucked up. "But as always, you are right." Rosie let out a small, rueful chuckle. "Every person you told me to kill ended up deserving little else from me. I wonder if you had a knack for your current line of work before you chose to pursue this."

"Likely." Anastasia smirked, Rosie knew it. "I have always been fond of picking people's brains." Both women chuckled, this time sincerely and with great mirth, at the words. Only fellow Cannibals and those fond of black comedy would find the truth behind those words funny. "But let's get back on topic. You aren't going to have him, Rosie." Anastasia cut Rosie's line of thought before it darkened too much. "Not fully at least. Just like you weren't going to have Alan. He won't be yours alone and certainly you won't have him NOW. I know you. You may drop a hint, you may say something, but I know you are not going to force him into a choice. You didn't even abuse the Deal as much as you could."

"I plan, Anastasia. I play the long game." Rosie all but confirmed her friend's words. "So yes, I will only talk. I will… try to push him away."

Rosie could hear Anastasia going still. "That means you are going to try and scare him." The woman on the other end of the line groaned. "And if he doesn't do as you expect? If he drags you in even without knowing? If he wants to STAY?"

"... If all goes wrong, it won't matter in a year. But if he is still standing?" Rosie took a deep breath. "I… wouldn't mind just having… something. I-." Rosie's words caught in her throat. "I don't know."

But this wasn't the first time Rosie and Anastasia had a conversation like this. Never, before or after Alan, had another human been the topic. But if you ignored that, the pair had already fenced with this problem and Rosie always met her match with her old friend's wordsmithing. Anastasia always had a way to make Rosie see things clearly.

And Rosie knew how it was going to end. How it always ended.