Art Credit: SamuraiAmes
WARNING: Angst but happy ending. Come on y'all I can't make it just sad :( Hints toward molestation, rape, forced abortion and also detailed murder. If any of this triggers you PLEASE DON'T READ. PLEASE.
NOTE: I apologize if this chapter comes off as confusing to read, or very out of character for Alastor (I mean but that's my whole book tbh) I just wanted to explore a dreamlike state and how I would write that and kind of dive into a past that I imagine Alastor to have. This isn't canon. This is just my thoughts. But anyway, please enjoy, and I promise I'll have something cute and happy for the next chapter. :)
Alastor enjoyed the feeling of slipping into unconsciousness and into his dreams. Some nights he would dream of death and catastrophe by his hands, something he very much enjoyed. Other times it would be he and (Y/N) together.
This could be very innocent, other times not.
As most dreamers however, there are always times where Alastor would experience some night terrors.
This particular night, he was not doing so well.
Tossing and turning next to a gentle sleeping (Y/N), the Radio Demon's facial features scrunched up painfully, his jaw was tight and unmoving as he whimpered softly in his sleep. He was devoid of a smile which was usually easy for him to maintain. In this vulnerable state Alastor looked much different from his terrifying and intimidating demeanor that others feared.
In this dream, it felt as if he was engulfed in frigid water, almost like falling into a frozen lake. His feet dropped down to solid ground to a very familiar spot from his past. This lucid dream took him to his childhood home deep in Georgia country. It was a two story farm house that was built sometime in the Victorian era. The house had just finished living through the great war, and a young Alastor was only about ten or eleven at the time.
He walked closer to the house, touching the delicate leaves from greenery and shrubs around the front yard with a very ghostly touch. A sound of laughter echoed in his ear, and out the front door of his old childhood home came—
Alastor.
Much, much younger though.
Adorned with a missing tooth at the front of his smile, child Alastor hopped off the steps of the porch, spinning on his heels in a happy, joyful manner. No care in the world. As Alastor watched his past self, he couldn't help but smile, missing that vague sense of carefree. Moments after, his dear mother appeared from the door, smiling tiredly down at her son that was now tearing down some weeds over by fathers car.
"Alastor dear, be careful not to bump your fathers car."
Her voice was detached.
Dreaming of this distant memory, he had forgotten what his mother actually sounded like. He tried reaching out to his mother and his younger self, but he couldn't move.
The scenery changed. It was dark now, and in a corridor in his past home that lead to his parents bedroom. There was no younger version of himself, no smiling mother.
No joy.
There was a noise of struggle coming from the room and he tried with all his might to prevent his legs from moving. He wanted to be anywhere BUT there.
His heart knew that his father was in there. His horrible, abusive father. The man he blames for turning him into a monster. A tyrant.
A murderer.
His father abused him and his mother nearly everyday with no reprimand. When Alastor was a boy he would go to school adorning bruises, sometimes he had a black eye. His father who has no name to Alastor would belittle him, and abuse him emotionally and physiologically.
"You are nothing, boy."
"Tell anyone of what you saw, I'll kill both you and your mother."
But besides what Alastor dealt with, nothing could ever compare to the trauma his poor mother endured. His father would constantly demand his mother for sex or sexual favors, giving her no time to rest or be at peace. If she refused in anyway, he would hit her and then force her to do it anyway.
Sometimes his demands would lead to accidents, and he would...make her to get rid of it.
Alastor once heard his father say he didn't want any other "mistakes" like he claimed Alastor to be.
He could hear his mother's sobs ringing in his ears.
"Wake up." he growled to himself, covering his ears.
Her cries grew louder.
"Wake UP." he shut his eyes tight.
It was almost piercing.
"WAKE UP DAMN YOU!" he screamed out, wishing that his body would wake up and send him away from this nightmare.
When he opened his eyes, he found that he was in his parents room, and the crying was coming from the bed. But the crying was not coming from his mother.
It was coming from (Y/N).
Alastor watched in frozen horror as his father committed the most horrible actions toward the woman he loved the most. The woman he would die for.
"A-Alastor please..." (Y/N) sobbed, crying out in pain as Alastor's father disrespected her body further. His father looked up from his carnage. When he was finished, he shoved the unconscious female aside and gazed up at his son with a smug smile.
Alastor's heart was racing a mile a minute as he bored holes right at his father with his burning eyes. After horror melted away, it was replaced with unadulterated rage. He let out a piercing wail of anger, nearly pulling his hair out with his hands.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?" he screamed so loud, nearly shaking the house from its foundation. This reaction made his father stumble straight on his ass, and he fell with a harsh thud. Suddenly, Alastor found he had a knife in his hand. He grit his teeth as he stared at that son of a bitch, gripping the blade tight.
"I'll enjoy killing you, again."
Alastor charged at him, immediately sinking the blade right in his fathers shoulder. He let out a pained scream, as the blade was pulled out to be slammed into him once again.
"THIS, IS, FOR MOTHER," he yelled between stabs. Hot tears were streaming down his cheeks. He could vaguely see (Y/N) face down on the ground, motionless.
"THIS," he stabbed much deeper, a spot that caused his father to throw up a significant amount of blood and bile. He coughed, holding his sons shaking wrist with his weak one.
"This is for (Y/N), and ME. Everything you've ever done to us. You deserve to die a second time." he spat, covered in his father's warm blood.
Alastor slowly pulled the blade out, and tossed it aside, kneeling in front of his now red stained piece of shit father as he was slumped on the ground. His father's body suddenly began to wither away before him, and there was no trace of him ever killing his father. He saw (Y/N) from afar also disappear, as he tried reaching out to her.
He jumped slightly when a gentle hand touched his shoulder. When he turned, he saw him mother smiling down at him.
"Wake up my dear."
Alastor jolted up awake, sitting up very tensed before breaking down softly. He brought his knees to his chest and shielded his eyes as he sobbed quietly. He could feel and hear (Y/N), his real (Y/N) who was conscious and alright, worriedly shaking his shoulder.
"Alastor, Alastor what's wrong? Baby what happened?" she asked with a sad tone. She hated seeing her buck in such a state and gladly took him in when he collapsed into her arms. He swallowed the lump in his throat, calming down once he deciphered what was a dream and what was a reality. He didn't answer his love as he kissed her lips, feeling her warmth on him.
This was definitely reality.
Alastor composed himself, snuggling into her neck with a shaky breath.
"It's...it's nothing but a night terror. Something awful that my brain imagined." he muttered, wanting to quickly forget what happened. (Y/N) could only nod, petting Alastor's head to help calm his nerves. It seemed to work, as he laid back down and pulled her into his chest.
"Are you sure Alastor?" (Y/N) asked him, pecking his lips affectionately. Alastor took it gladly, giving her a hug.
"Yes my dear. Everything is alright now."
As Alastor shut his eyes in an attempt to fall back asleep, he reminded himself that his father is gone, and his mother is in a better place, and all this hurt was only a dream.