Deadly Shame

Aftermath

Author's Note: More improvising Alastor's backstory

The room was dim with a flickering light above, having a simple lightbulb and no fixture to cover it, a quiet and rhythmic beeping filling the silence. A familiar woman was there, having tanned skin and a tired smile sitting beside him, a streak of grey in her hair frizzy as she brushed it back into her bun. Alastor looked up to find her hugging him tightly to the point he heard a bone crack, groaning.

"I'm so glad you're okay baby! Don't ever do that again!" She cried, holding him and caressing his brown locks, he took a moment to find his hands in their bronzed complexion, skin he hadn't seen in so long. He wasn't conscious, not yet.

He slowly reached out and wrapped his arms around her, sighing with a gentle smile as he proceeded to rub her back. He was starting to remember the reason he ended up in this back alley clinic that was all she, his mother, could afford.

He had picked up a sweet young thing, could remember this one's name out of all the nameless bodies. It was Emma, she was sweet, shy, pure, nothing special but certainly a lady if he ever saw one. She had these bright blue eyes, untainted. She was a little dreamer, talked on and on about saving up money for a bakery, showing him all these pictures she took of her sweets, pies and cakes, that kind of thing. He smiled even as he hated the sugary confections. He amused her with a little flirting here and there, knew the buttons to push to make her blush, shy away, he had trained himself to be the perfect little charmer.

She insisted on going to her place, usually the reason for that was they felt more comfortable in their homes, the pure types, and he couldn't seem to get a drop of alcohol in despite all his peer pressure and coaxing, so eventually he decided to follow her back to her place. She seemed harmless enough. That was a big blunder.

As soon as he made his way into her tiny apartment, she had stepped behind him and locked the door, grabbing a lamp from her table that she proceeded to bash him over the head with it. Taken aback he fell to his knees, holding his bleeding scalp. When he looked back he realized there was something familiar about her, she looked an awful lot like another girl he picked up...probably her sister. She had likely saw him with her, put the pieces together when she didn't come back home.

He had to fight back, and he did, throwing whatever was closest to him as he managed to get a few hits in, leaving a black eye and bruises. But she got to him anyway, and started punching him relentlessly, hitting everything she could with surprising strength. In her blind revenge Alastor managed to grab onto her neck, proceeding to strangle the life out of her. In her gasping breaths she grabbed a pair of scissors from the chaos that happened around her desk close by, and stabbed him directly in the chest. He flinched, but held it together long enough to get her on her back, finishing her off in a bloody heap. He was fairly injured, and had to hide a body now in an urban area of all places.

With weakness building, he stuffed her in her closet, dragging his feet as he got the place cleaned up with all his energy. He left himself the bloody mess that he was, prepared to explain it. With his last moments of consciousness and willpower he had made it home, falling into his mother's tired arms when she opened the door.

The beeping started to make its way into the darkness of reliving that fainting, a static groaning leaving him as his blurry vision came through, opening his eyes wearily to find Charlie there with Vaggie resting her hand by her, also looking concerned much to his surprise. He also found Angel there, asleep besides Husk who was busy reading a newspaper when he looked to Alastor, rolling his eyes and sighing before continuing to read.

"Al! You're okay...you had us so worried!" Charlie cried, hugging him as he blinked from surprise, feeling the bandages that practically wrapped him like a mummy.