Chapter Text
Your feet sink where they step into the snow. The cold nips at your uncovered face, so Alastor lifts the red scarf higher over your nose and holds it there. Your head lifts up to gaze at the night sky, twinkling with few stars in the far distance above.
"Some of the few things I miss about the living world is the blue sky and the changing of the seasons," Alastor sighs. "Though, I do remember there being more stars to gaze upon."
His more eloquent speech spoken in your voice used to make you cringe, but you've gotten used to it at this point to not give it a second thought.
Mmyeah, it's a shame. you think. Technology is cool and all, but the world got too bright for the stars to shine. 'Sucks.
Alastor continues on the stroll, humming as he does. Your hands are held behind your back and your eyes remain on the deep-blue sky. A car passes by, momentarily grabbing Alastor's attention.
There're people that drive out to the middle of nowhere just to look at the stars. you say. We can do that too, if you want.
You briefly pull up the thought It's usually done for romantic dates. but shove it away quickly. He manages to catch it, though. A flustered feeling comes from you, and he chuckles, rubbing your covered hand with a thumb. When he tries hard enough, he could almost fool himself into thinking that he was actually there with you.
"I would love that." he says softly. There's that feeling again as well as some warmth that creeps into your cheeks. How cute.
He's imagining it now; you, lying down on a blanket laid out in a field somewhere, eyes reflecting the twinkling lights of the sky. He sees himself there with you, holding your hand, or maybe holding you in his arms, indulging in your warmth and presence. The only star he'd be gazing at is you, and hopefully you'd be gazing at him, too. It'd be romantic, like in those movies that you like watching so much.
He stops abruptly, blinking. Wait, does he want it to be romantic? No, no, no, of course not. It'll just be a casual, enjoyable moment with a person he's comfortable with.
What he wants is for these growing, confusing feelings he has for you to go away. He's the cold-hearted Radio Demon. He shouldn't want to make you happy—to hear your adorable, dorky laugh or see your silly, cute, crooked smile. He hates how much he wants to be with you, to hold your hand in his own for once. He shouldn't want to sing and dance with you for the rest of eternity but it's hard to deny that he cares about you so much more than anything he's ever cared about before and maybe even loves you and it would be so easy to just snap your neck and—
Something wrong?
Your mind's voice stands out among his private thoughts, dousing him like cold water and making him jump out of his deep contemplation.
"No, there isn't," he lies, like a liar. "It's just that..."
He goes silent. After patiently waiting a few seconds, you hum, prompting him to continue.
He sucks in a deep breath. Why did he feel so nervous all of a sudden? Was it you? No, he recognises these feelings as his own. He wants to tell you, but he doesn't know how to form these thoughts into proper words. He hates it. He shouldn't be feeling so lost. He hates feeling lost.
He couldn't outright tell you that he wants to kill you. For some reason, he felt like you wouldn't appreciate such bluntness.
"Would it be so bad if you died right now and joined me in Hell?" he asks, talking as if he wasn't outright telling you to kill yourself just so that you could frolic around in the Underworld with him. You're unfazed by the question, merely snorting incredulously.
I'm not killing myself, Al.
"I can easily make it look like an accident."
No—Al, I don't want to die yet. you say. There's still stuff I wanna do.
"You can do them in Hell!" he insists. "You'd be surprised by how similar it is to the living world."
Does Hell have blue skies and pretty green horizons?
"Ah, well—"
Al, as fun as going to Hell sounds, the sarcasm is thick in your words. I'd rather not do that just yet. It might be cool to meet you, sure, but we can still hang out like this.
He sighs defeatedly. "Well, it is your body..."
He can sense you smile gladly in your shared mind. Thanks, Al. Hey, when I do die and end up down there, we can do a whole bunch of stuff together, whatever you want. Sound good?
That lifts his spirits and he laughs. "That sounds like a splendid idea! I cannot wait!"
The two of you fall back into a companionable silence. Alastor continues to hum a more cheerful tune, stepping onto the asphalt road with a skip in his step. When you die, he'll take you to the hotel and introduce you to everyone else. He's been telling them about you every chance he gets and Charlie in particular is beyond excited to meet you. He knows they'd like you immediately; who wouldn't?
He's so lost in thought that he almost doesn't notice the car zooming towards him. The headlights capture his gaze and your limbs lock up. From feeling everything, he suddenly feels nothing as he stares back at the bright, shining lights. He's so distracted that he almost doesn't hear you screaming at him in your shared mind.
You suddenly seize control from him, shoving your body forwards. Your shared body narrowly misses the car, its hull grazing your clothes briefly as it sped by with a loud honk. Cold sweat is beading your forehead and your precious little heart is racing a mile a minute.
"Crap, Al...!" you pant. "That was way too close! You gotta be more careful—"
Something shines in the corner of your vision. You turn your head just in time to be blinded by a pair of lights before everything goes black.