Slowly slipping away from the world of dreams, visions lingered of your family.
Your parents distraught, perhaps more agitated than sad. Everyone else, your friends and colleagues, they seemed to be mourning pretty hard. You wondered if what you dreamt of was actually happening on earth in real time. Considered a night or two ago you were plagued with images of your own cadaver; the possibility didn't seem far-fetched. But, these dreams left as quickly as you woke up. Becoming nothing more than vague scenes stored in your short-term memory, only to be forgotten later.
When you woke back up it must have late in the evening. Before midnight at least, but almost everyone in the hotel had gone off to bed or do their own thing.
Almost everyone.
It was raining again, thunder seemed to roar and rumble, lightning cracked the sky just outside your window.
You groaned, feeling the inevitable headache taking it's hold. Not the worst hangover you've had, but definitely not fun. It beat the pain of severe withdrawal, although technically any hangover is a minor case in itself. You sat up in bed and let your head hang low as you tried to piece together your moments prior. Drinking with Husk and Angel, Alastor coming by to join, and you barely remembered him being the last person you saw before everything went black.
Rubbing the grogginess from your eyes, you blinked and let your vision adjust to your dark room. Startled a little as thunder continued to rumble. You reached over and turned on the tabletop lamp at your bedside, squinting at the sudden brightness. Your gaze panned down and noticed a glass of water, a couple pills, and a folded note. Furrowing a brow and heaving a heavy sigh you unfolded the note and read it silently.
"Darling,
I took the liberty of escorting you to your room. You went a little heavy on the booze earlier and I felt it necessary to ensure you got some rest. Beside you are some pain relievers and some water (not vodka, I promise!).
When you have your wits about you, we need to discuss something. Come find me whenever you're ready. I'll be waiting.
-Alastor"
"The hell does he wanna discuss with me?" You muttered to yourself.
You couldn't for the life of you remember your last interaction with him. And sat there a bit baffled, hoping that whatever you did, you didn't piss him off too much.
"Fuck it." You sighed, reaching over and taking the pills he had left for you and drinking the water. Small sips at first and then greedier gulps; not initially realizing how thirsty you really were. The cool beverage soothing the dryness of your throat until there wasn't a drop left in the glass.
You wiped your chin of any excess that dribbled down with the sleeve of the hoodie and threw the covers off of you.
Wait... Did he tuck me in? Or did I do that?
You dismissed the thought and got out of bed, meandering over to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. The warm yellow light seemed to hum and whir as the old bulb illuminated the space above the vanity mirror. You looked tired, especially near your eyes. You huffed, removing your gloves just for a brief moment and rinsing your face with the coldest water you could stand to help yourself wake up.
You decided to stay in Angel's hoodie and the pair of shorts you had fallen asleep in, not seeing the point in a wardrobe change this late at night. Quickly fixing your hair and hiding the dark circles beneath your eyes with some concealer so you at least looked put together. You took a steady breath before exiting your room to go find Alastor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The hotel was so different at night. Even with the lights on in the halls, it felt so dark as you wandered through. The eyes on each portrait you passed seemed to follow you, you chuckled silently at such a ridiculous thought. Trying to ease your nerves. The portraits aren't watching me, this ain't scooby-doo.
The storm must have been frightfully close, almost as if it was looming across the hotel. Rain constantly tapping against the windows, so loud it sounded like marbles hitting the glass; while the wind whipped ferociously and caused the old walls to creak and groan.
Aside from the storm, it was quiet and oh so deathly still. To think you and Alastor were probably the only ones awake in this entire hotel right now was a little unsettling. And the fact that you didn't know where he was lurking made it more anxiety inducing. You tugged at your gloves, pulling them taught in some attempt to sooth your rattled spirits. Half expecting him to pop out of any random corner and scare you. Which, he had thought about, but decided against it.
The rooms that you passed on the main floor were dark, only illuminated when lightning flashed outside. Lighting up the scenery as if it was daytime for short bursts. Not having much luck in your deer hunt so far, you ventured on.
You were tempted to call out Alastor's name, to see if you could coax him into coming out of hiding. But for whatever reason it felt wrong to break the quietude, so you decided against it. Passing some more empty rooms and going beyond the auditorium you were beginning to think he must have gone home after-all. You were about to give up your search until you turned the corner and saw something that caught your attention. One room among a few, the only one in the corridor with a light on.
Library.
You clenched your fists and then relaxed them, taking a steady breath. It's fine, right? Can't be any different than any other time he wanted to talk to you. No reason to be nervous. Absolutely none.
Your ear flicked at the sound of a page turning, now standing in the doorway you could see the demon sitting on a couch with his nose in a book. Seeming quite immersed, almost as if he were unaware of the storm outside; and of your lingering presence in the doorway. You figured he knew you were here even though he hasn't said anything or looked at you.
"You had nothing to do all evening but wait for me to wake up?" You asked with a light smile. Folding your arms across your chest as you leaned against the doorway. Alastor brought the novel down to his lap and looked up at you. His eyes lighting up at the sight.
"Good evening, my dear!" He greeted you. He marked his page and closed the book, the hardcover making a soft thump noise as he set it gently on the coffee table in front of him. "Come, sit."
You stepped inside and walked over, taking your seat on the far end of the couch. Leaving enough room between you to fit another person.
"You look as though you had a good nap." He said pleasantly.
"I guess, I don't remember falling asleep." You said. "Thank you for bringing me to my room."
"Of course. Can't have you passing out at the bar, now can we?" He chuckled. "Did you rest well?"
You nodded. "Bit of a headache but I don't think that's surprising."
"Awh, how unfortunate." He tsked. The amused smile never leaving his face. "Only a matter of minutes before those pain relievers kick in and you'll feel right as rain! Just over the counter tablets, love. Nothing too strong."
"Again, thank you."
"But of course. I thought you were cutting down, however."
"So much for that..." you said honestly, looking away from him.
"You can always keep trying." He hummed. "Moderation is a virtue. It doesn't help that your little friends enabled you, no doubt."
"They didn't enable me. Angel tried to cut me off a few times, I didn't heed him."
"Ah, I see. Well I suppose that's not surprising you didn't listen to reason."
"Is my alcoholism what you wanted to talk about? Or my stubbornness?" You asked, raising a brow as you looked back over at him.
"Neither." He answered, shaking his head. He summoned a cigarette in his hand and placed it between his lips, lighting it with his thumb before summoning another for you. Holding it between his thumb and index finger right in front of you. "I have a question for you, darling."
You took the cigarette from him, and let him light it for you while you inhaled. The smell of tobacco and clove filling the room. "For me?" You enunciated, smoke pooling from the corners of your mouth. "And what question would that be, Alastor?"
He suppressed a chuckle, he liked how his name sounded as it spilled from your lips. But no matter, now more to the point. "You seem to enjoy trying to get a rise out of me." He started. "Your little antics and remarks. What compels you to do so, sweetheart?"
He waved his hand and a red glass ash-tray manifested on the coffee table, ready to be used at yours and Al's disposal.
"You make it easy." You answered, somewhat amused.
"And is this something you do to Angel Dust and Husker, as well?" He asked. "Giving them endearing descriptions like 'cute' and 'adorable', getting in their personal bubble?"
"No. Everyone gets picked on differently. Guess you're special."
"Mm hmm." He nodded. "So you reserve your flirtatious attitude specifically for me then. Is that what you're saying?"
"Does my teasing bother you?" You asked, taking another drag before extinguishing the cancer stick in the ash-tray.
"Bothersome isn't the word I would use."
"And what is the word you would pick?" You asked, taking another deep drag. Grey smoke seeped put through his smile as he chuckled again. Feeling an odd pit in the bottom of your stomach as his gaze met yours. He grinned at you and set his gasper down in the ash-tray as well before looking back at you.
"Enthralling."
His grin widened and his eyes narrowed as the word passed seamlessly from his lips. Shit, what did I do?
"Tell me darling, would it continue to be so funny if I were to reciprocate the behavior?" He asked, scooting closer to where you sat on the couch.
"Sure. You wouldn't, though."
"If I weren't a gentleman, I would certainly entertain the idea." He mused. "And, was I tempted the last time I saw you. However, you were unable to make rational decisions for yourself and were maybe only acting out of drunken impulse. And I felt it necessary to ask about it when you were a bit more... reasonable."
"Act out of impu- Alastor what are you talking about?" You asked.
"You really don't remember what you did?" He asked.
"No, I don't."
Instead of answering you right away he merely chuckled and shook his head. You ruminated through the likely possibilities, cringing at some of the stories you've heard about what you've done in the past.
"Oh no," you sighed. "did I flash somebody my tits again?"
"No- Again? Ehm, no." He answered, clearing his throat. "However, you did show perhaps a bit more tenderness toward me than you normally would have."
"Can you just tell me what I apparently did, please?" You asked.
"You gave me a nice little smooch, my dear. Right about here." His smile stayed ever present on his face as he pointed to the spot on his jaw. Your eyes widened and your face dropped a bit, ignoring the short nervous chuckle that escaped your throat.
"Why did I do that?" You asked.
He shrugged. "You tell me. You keep regarding to my physical attractiveness, more so when I'm in a flustered state. Which I must say, my dear, is an effect I'm not used to."
He sat even closer, clearly just trying to get a reaction out of you. You leaned against the couch in a small attempt to keep some distance between you two, even though he merely just shifted even closer.
"You seem to like ruffling my feathers. And the last time I saw you, I was tempted to level out the playing field. Give you a taste of your own medicine." He chuckled. "But, you weren't able to provide proper consent at the time, let alone be conscious of your own actions. I felt it rude and invasive to act in such a way. Until you finally regained your senses, that is."
"You don't wanna do that, Alastor." You warned. Almost pleading in tone, knowing if he tried your mind would be bombarded by satan only knows what horrific things. You didn't feel like having a front row seat to a serial killers memories.
"Oh?" He hummed, deeply amused at how the tables seemed to turn, finding your fidgeting nervousness somewhat cute. "And why is that?"
He could hear your heart begin to pound within your chest, leaning in a little just to make your nerves a little more wired. The truth is he was a man of his morals and he wouldn't dream of taking advantage of you if it made you uncomfortable. But you didn't know that for a fact, so as far as you were concerned he was going to bombard you with affection. It wasn't until lightning cracked across the sky once more, all the lights in the hotel going out with it; that seemed to break whatever tension was between you two.
A fairly well lit room now pitch black, the stags glowing red eyes being your only source of light.
"Oh FUCK NO." You shouted, leaping across the couch and practically tackling the poor stag.
"Darling, don't tell me you're afraid of the dark." Chuckling awkwardly. Shifting his weight to stand up onto his feet, you hanging onto him like your entire existence depended on it; and with incredible strength too. It would take shadows and tendrils to pry you off of him.
"I'm not afraid of the dark, I'm afraid of being alone with a cannibalistic killer in the dark."
"And yet you're clinging to me like a koala on a tree?" he wondered, looking down at you.
"Cause at least I know where you are."
"Y/n, you're going to have to let go." He said. "There's a fuze box downstairs, and it's going to be a lot easier for me to go find it if you're not squeezing me like a boa constrictor."
"And be left alone? I think the fuck not, Bambi."
"Come with me then, hold my hand or arm if you wish. But cease the clinging."
"CeAsE tHe ClInGiNg- mehmehmehmeh." You mocked, begrudgingly letting go of the demon and standing firmly with your feet upon the floor. You felt his hand brush against your sleeve and trail down to your hand, offering it to you. You grasped it firmly as to not lose him, and he did the same.
He waved his hand and summoned a lit candle on a hand-held wax catcher. The small flame flickered, helping illuminate a little of your surroundings, he handed it over to you. "Here. Take this." He said.
You nodded and carefully took the metal holder in your hand, watching as he did the same thing again only keeping his candle to himself.
"Well, come on then darling." He urged gently.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Fuck, smells so dusty down here." You coughed gently as you both entered the basement level of the hotel. "The air is so stale."
Nothing much was down there except cement walls and floor, some old pipes that seemed to rattle and groan periodically. Not at all helping the ominous ambiance of your surroundings.
"Indeed." He sighed, lifting his candle as he searched for the electrical box. Slowly leading you down the dark hallway and holding your gloved hand tightly. He didn't want to lose you down here, especially if a draft blew one of your candles out. He didn't want you to start panicking. "Perhaps tomorrow I'll have Niffty start tidying up down here."
"Find it yet?"
"Not yet. It's down here somewhere, just keep going."
You grimaced at the sound of mice and rats and satan only knows what other rodents were down here, no doubt keeping warm from the raging storm outside. You suppressed a squeak as you felt one run over your foot.
"So, why so apprehensive about me dishing back?" He mused, not dropping the subject of what occurred earlier. Wondering to himself if perhaps you had a crush, and the reciprocated affection made you as nervous as it made him when you did it.
"I'd like to explain but I barely understand it myself, Al." You said with a sigh. "Let's just say I feel like I'd be invading your boundaries if I let you do that."
"But if I consent-"
"It's not just the physicality. There's more to it that you'd unwillingly subject both of us to."
"And you cannot explain that to me instead of avoiding the subject like a scared child?"
"I'm not avoiding it, I just don't see how it's any of your business."
"It's my business when you begin to dose me with your affection, darling." He said lowly. His breath licking at the skin of your neck as he hovered just behind you, almost sending a shudder right down your spine.
"Al, I'm sorry." You sighed. "I didn't mean to upset you. I wasn't thinking clearly, as you know, and I shouldn't have put you in a position like that. Teasing is one thing but I crossed a line and I apologize."
"You needn't apologize, my dear." He said, reassuring you. "I'm not upset."
"Then, what are you?" You wondered.
"I think the fuze box is somewhere around here." He said, almost as if he refused to acknowledge your question.
"Now who's avoiding the subject?" You teased.
"Still you."
Your expression dropped. Obviously you weren't going to get anywhere in this conversation unless you were a little more open and honest with him. You could tell from the curious look in his eye that he wasn't going to let up about this. You had to give him credit, he was a persistent fellow, and didn't really seem to stop when there was something that he wanted. You sighed and rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you internally scolded yourself for what you were about to do.
Ugh.
"You know the gloves that lady at the shop gave me? The ones I've been wearing since?" You asked, looking over at him. He tried the switches on the box, but to no avail. He huffed in disappointment.
"I suppose the storm knocked the power out. Guess we're in the dark for a little while." He sighed, shutting the box and beginning to lead you back upstairs. "Anyways, yes. What about them?"
"I think she sensed it when she grabbed me that day." You murmured. "Anyway, if I touch you or vice versa without some sort of barrier, I get a glimpse of things you've done or experienced. I can feel what you feel. I see your memories and your thoughts. If I did last night, I don't remember anything. So rest easy knowing that. But, yeah... that's why."
"My dear, you're a seer!" He chirped.
"A what now?" You wondered. A bit confused by his enthusiasm.
"Psychometric abilities, to acquire knowledge of an entity or object by simple touch. A rare gift you have there, Y/n!" He said. He seemed rather excited by the matter, carefully taking the lead as he guided you both back up the dark stairs and back through the winding halls of the main floor.
"It's a burden." You huffed with a slight sense of exasperation. "I have enough of my own issues, I don't need other peoples too."
"Why not use that as an advantage? Get to know people better, use it to your benefit."
"I already don't like when people get close, let alone knowing their trauma on such a personal level without my own consent." You answered. "Most people are temporary anyway. What's the use in getting to know and becoming attached to someone who's not going to be around for the long haul?"
"You've been abandoned before." He pieced together.
"Ding ding ding, we have a winner!" You mocked sarcastically. "You don't seem to care to get too close to anyone either unless it's for your benefit. Someone hurt you too?"
"Of course, hurt people hurt other people. But I'm not sulking and drowning my sorrows in a vice, I took control."
"But it is a vice. If you're using murder as a way of feeling better."
"Pish posh." He dismissed with a wave of his hand. "That was only the beginning. Now it's but a favorable pass time! Some people play sports, exercise or play games to ease their boredom; I prefer hunting."
"What made you start killing?"
"Hm?" He asked. Furrowing his brows for a moment. No one had ever asked him that before. Then again, no one really cared to ask. Once they find out you're a murderer people tend to stop caring about that part of your psyche. He wasn't going to lie to you or dodge the question, it just caught him off guard.
"Why did you start?" You reiterated. "Who pissed you off so badly that you felt it necessary to take a life so you could feel better? I'm not judging, I genuinely just want to know."
"My father, was a drinker."
"Okay, Heath Ledger." You snickered. "Sorry. I take it he wasn't a fun drunk?"
"Not exactly." He huffed. "I've been cracked by many a bottle in the midst of his tantrums, in fact I'm surprised I don't have the embossed glass branded in the back of my noggin from how many times he's done it."
"That's fucked up." You grimaced. "I mean my dad wasn't exactly father of the year either, but he never hit me or nothing. I'm really sorry. What about your mom? Was she around?"
"My mother was a saint," he said with a gentle smile. "I had a very good relationship with her. And I thank my lucky stars for that."
"I'm glad." You said softly. In a way, happy to see a genuine smile on his face.
"Were you close with your mom?" He asked. You shrugged, rolling a shoulder forward.
"Yes and no. We got along better than my dad and I did, but they were fabric cut from the same cloth. I couldn't be too honest with her."
"Not like how you probably wanted to be." He clarified.
"No." You said. "But I had the other circus folk for that. May not have been related to most of them by blood, but they were my family. Helped raise me, taught me things, they even saved me from trouble many of times."
"You seem like you were really fond of them."
"I was." You answered. "I'll never forget them."
The lights in the hotel seemed to flicker, strobing for just a second before staying lit. The candles in yours and Alastor's hands snuffing themselves out almost like magic. The loudness of the storm outside slowly beginning to recede, gradually lowering in volume and intensity as it seemed to travel elsewhere in the sky.
"It's getting rather late. May I walk you to your room?" He asked.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You should sleep darling." He said softly. "Forgive me but you look like you need some more rest."
"I'd love to but the last few nights haven't exactly been very peaceful for me." You sighed, sitting down on your bed with a yawn.
"Why, my dear?" He asked.
"Nights are kinda hard for me." You admitted. "Easy for the mind to wander."
"Would you prefer some company while you try to fall asleep?" He offered.
You furrowed a brow, a bit skeptical of his well-intentions.
"So you're not alone with your thoughts." He explained. "You have someone to talk to or distract you should you need it."
"Don't you have to go to sleep at some point?" You asked with a soft laugh, getting underneath your covers and laying your head on the pillow.
"I'll sleep when I'm tired." He shrugged with a simple smile. He summoned a book within his hand, presumably the one he was reading from downstairs while he was waiting for you. He sat down on the armchair across from your bed and adjusted his monocle, opening to the page he left off on.
"What are you reading?" You wondered, looking over at him from where you lay comfortably.
"To kill a mockingbird." He hummed. "A bit juvenile in material, but, it's a classic. Have you read it?"
"Nuh uh." You answered softly.
"I'll read to you, if you'd like."
"Ooo a bedtime story!" You teased. "Actually, yeah. You could do that."
"I'll start from the beginning then." He chuckled, flipping the pages back. "Chapter one." He said, clearing his throat. " 'When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow'..."
You laid there on your side, your tired eyes fixed on the stag who sat there beside your bed with a pleasant and soft expression on his face. His voice was gentle, the longer he read the more the filter of static seemed to lull your senses.
Drifting away before you even knew you closed your eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The old house was the same, droopy and sick, but as we stared down the street we thought we saw an inside shutter move. Flick. A tiny, almost invisible movement, and the house was still." He sighed contently and closed the book. "I must have read this at least a handful of times, you know."
He paused as he looked back over at you and saw you sleeping soundly in your bed. His smile softened at the sight. He had to admit, you looked kinda precious. Perhaps it was the lack of insults coming from you that made you extra adorable. He looked down at your sleeping form as he stood up, stretching out his arms as he walked over to the side of the bed.
He watched for a second as you breathed slowly and evenly. Wondering what you were dreaming about, and reeling over your earlier conversation, feeling a strange warmth in his chest. He pressed his index and middle finger to his lips, then gently pressed the gloved fingertips to your forehead. As if to pass on the smooch without doing so in a way that would inflict any visions. He didn't want to disturb your slumber.
"Sleep well, darling."