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"Where is he?!"
Vox stuck out like a sore thumb in Cannibal Town even when he wasn't making a scene, the peak of entitlement with a rather male overtone.
"I know you know where he is!" Vox was storming past the line of customers now, pitching his body over the counter, one clawed hand on the countertop and another jabbing into Rosie's space.
"Vox," she said quietly. "Don't make a lady regret keeping things cordial with you all these years."
She turned to face him fully now, and under all of Vox's anger and entitlement was fear. Desperation.
"Behave or get out," she said simply.
"Rosie. Come on. You have to know where he is."
"I don't 'have to' anything, Vox. This is my territory—"
"Rosie," Vox said, "please."
"Franklin, you're manning the counter," Rosie said and opened a door to the backrooms. "Are you coming or not?" Rosie said as she turned to enter and saw Vox not moving.
"Coming," Vox said and moved to follow. "Where are we going?" Vox asked as he followed Rosie. "Rosie? Rosie!"
Vox just wouldn't shut up.
"You know," Rosie said, breaking the silence she'd walked in save for the swish of her skirts, "it's rather bold of you to storm into the Overlord of Cannibal Town's emporium, demanding her attention, and then follow her into the backrooms of said emporium. You do know exactly what we sell, yes?"
"I…"
"And you're such a novelty, too! I'm sure you'd fetch a handsome price." Rosie kept talking now that Vox had finally stopped. "Or maybe I'll keep you to myself! You know, if Alastor's hadn't been so against it, I did say I would eat you up… How long until anyone notices you missing? Or do you think that horrible moth wants you to have a little acci—"
"Enough!" Vox shouted.
"Goodness, and I wasn't half as imposing as you were," Rosie said. "Anyway. We've reached the tea room."
"And you're not going to butcher me?"
"You really should have thought about that before following me," Rosie said with a needle-sharp smile.
Vox remained unamused.
"Mind your manners and I won't, how about that?" Rosie said. "No need to start a war between our territories, hmm?"
"No-o," Vox said. "No need."
"Wonderful! So good to be on the same page, isn't it?" Rosie said breezily. "Sit," she said with a gesture at one of the setees.
She only sat once he had.
"So, Vox. I'm going to give you one chance at a do-over of you barging into my shop, demanding I… well, you tell me what you wanted, hmm?"
"I…" Vox actually seemed to take stock for a second. "I thought… if anyone knows… anyone I could actually find… knows where he is, it's you." He looked at her with big red eyes in a sea of blue. "It has to be you."
"I'm afraid it doesn't have to be," Rosie said mildly.
"Rosie, please. I can do you a favor in return; you know I can."
"No, sweetheart," Rosie said and shook her head slightly. "No, you can't."
"I— I know you and Alastor think the new tech stuff is bullshit, but—"
"No, sweetheart," Rosie cut him off, sounding cool and collected as ever. "You can't do me a favor in return for something I can't give you."
"What?" Vox said. "But— but you're his— you're his closest friend," Vox said, like he was fighting back a rising tide of panic. "He has to have told you. He has to."
"Well, our Alastor so hated being told what he had to do, didn't he!" Rosie said, and felt the brittleness creeping into her voice. "Never really ours at all, was he."
"No. He wasn't," Vox said. Cold, like he'd gone some place inside himself that wasn't for Rosie when she'd said that.
"Truth be told I thought… I thought maybe you'd…"
Vox laughed, and it was all brittleness. "Alastor stopped telling me shit in the '70s."
"And who's fault was that?" Rosie challenged coolly.
"I— I'm not… I'm not defending myself to you," Vox said. "We both— all—" he said with a gesture to her— "made our choices. Time's arrow marches ever onward."
"It's hard to argue with a man who speaks in tautologies," Rosie said, mild as ever.
"I—" Vox clenched his fists and then released them. "I just meant there's no use rehashing stuff that happened fifty years ago. We're not going to resolve it; what's the point?"
"Fine," Rosie conceded. "I just thought you might want to convince me of your intentions."
"What, you think I kidnapped him or-or worse and am trying to fake you out?"
Rosie looked at him coolly with pitch black eyes.
"Rosie, I… I just want to know he's okay," Vox croaked out.
"Me too," Rosie said, and suddenly her throat hurt. Or maybe that was just when she noticed it. "Me too, Vox," she let out with an exhale.
"Rosie, I…"
"You know how he can pull away!" Rosie couldn't get herself to focus her eyes on Vox, didn't register the wince at that until it had passed. "I thought… give him some time. He'll come to you. He comes to you when he needs something; he comes to you when he's ready. He'll come to you. It's nearly fall and I haven't heard from him."
"Rosie, I— I'm sorry, for what it's worth."
"No-one's actually told me that yet!" Rosie admitted. "Can you believe it?"
Vox appeared to be at a loss for words.
"Franklin, I think he's glad he's gone. I think he's jealous. Of Alastor," Rosie said with a laugh that was really just a huff of air. "No, that's not fair; he's said he's sorry he's gone but… he's just being polite."
Rosie wasn't about to stop now.
"People think he can't love them back, you know? Funny, Franklin jealous of this 'other man' in my life and also thinking he's pathologically incapable of… it doesn't matter. It really doesn't matter. And you're either the only person who's capable of understanding me, or the last person who's going to understand what I'm saying."
"I miss him too," Vox said softly. "And… and I do understand. And I'm sorry."
"That last one for me or for him?"
"For— yes, actually. Just, yes."
"Okay," Rosie said. "Well, you better find him and tell him that, you hear?"
"I'm looking, Rosie; I'm looking," Vox said. "I'm here, aren't I?"
"You are," Rosie acknowledged.
Vox hadn't been here since— well, since it happened, since things fell apart between television and radio in the Pentagram.
"You are," Rosie said again, squeezing her hands together tightly before letting go.
"I get that, you know. People thinking he can't— that he doesn't care about people. Like, any people. At all."
Rosie looked at him. Realized who he must be talking about.
"I would say 'I'm sorry,' but…"
"We both— all— made our choices," Vox said again.
"We did." Rosie let out a breath she worked to keep relatively even. "I hope you're happy."
"That's not fair," Vox said. She hadn't managed to keep the venom out.
"Maybe not," Rosie said. "But then, neither were you."
"It was fifty years ago, Rosie. I— I wish— I would— I would talk to him again in a heartbeat if I thought there was a chance things could be different. But we both know that's… that's not who he is."
"There's your problem right there," Rosie said.
"What?" Vox asked.
"Nevermind," said Rosie.
"Rosie—" Vox pled, and Rosie said: "You want a different outcome. A different Alastor. You don't want to own what you did just for accountability's sake." Vox opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, she said "Actually, that's a lie! That's not your problem. Your problem is that you don't know where he is! I don't either! No-one does!" Rosie buried her face in her hands.
"Well, someone has to…" Vox started, and Rosie said "No-one in Cannibal Town, from what I can gather, and people tell me things, honey. I have asked. If I don't know, I don't know who does." Rosie switched tracks, from loudly despairing to quiet, still despairing, more mournful. "It's so hard, you know, to find someone you can depend to be exactly who they are, consistently. Especially when you make it to Overlord status, and everyone wants something from you."
"Fuck, yeah. And he… it's not that's he not a scheming little shit; it's that he doesn't ever really pretend he's not?"
Rosie laughed, and at least this time it had the polysyllabic shape of one. "He doesn't, does he? But Heaven forbid you imply he doesn't care when… well. Let sleeping dogs lie, hmm?"
"How kind of you," Vox said, only the barest edge of cold peeking through a mild coolness.
"I know," Rosie said.
"I… I am sorry," Vox said, and Rosie looked up at him from where her gaze had fallen to her hands. "For barging in here and… making a scene. For insisting you had to know. I just wanted to… I just needed to believe someone did."
"I know," Rosie said again. "I know," she said again and reached out to squeeze his hand.
Vox squeezed back.
"You better welcome him home when he gets here," Rosie said.
Vox snorted. "You sure he didn't leave to get away from me?" Rosie cut him a look, and Vox said "Kidding! Kidding. I'm kidding."
"If he was going to, it would have been ages ago, I'll tell you that, hun."
"I know; I know. It would have been—"
"I know," Rosie said. She was there.
"I can, uh, hypnotize all those people into forgetting what they saw, if that would—" Vox said, shifting gears, and Rosie said: "I don't know what service is like in your business, mister, but those people have cleared out by now. A lot of 'em, anyway. Besides, consider it a show of goodwill between us."
A show of goodwill from her, and they both knew it, on every level.
"Wonderful," Vox said.
"Wonderful," Rosie said back hollowly. "Wonderful, to be understood, isn't it," and both of them knew they weren't talking about the hypnosis proposal anymore.
"Yeah," Vox said. Then, eyes looking away: "Thank you."
"I'm… I'm glad you came," Rosie said. "Even if I wish you hadn't made such a scene about it."
"I'm glad you didn't eat me."
"You'd probably taste terrible, hun, if I'm being honest with you."
"I hope you have been," Vox said.
"I have," Rosie said.
"Don't… don't tell Val about this?" Vox asked.
"I won't. That's your business."
"Could you not tell… anyone, actually?" Vox asked meekly, such a sharp contrast from his usual business persona or the man who had blustered into her shop not half an hour ago.
"Course, darlin'. I can do you a favor."
Vox sighed. "Of course you can."
Rosie smiled at him with a mouth full of needles. "Of course I can." She softened a little, saying "I'll let you leave through a light in here. So you don't have to go back out."
"Thanks. Appreciate it," Vox said.
"Mhm," Rosie hummed.
He stood and zapped out with a last thin smile to her.
It was Vox, so it hadn't exactly been wonderful. But it had been nice, for the first time since Alastor had vanished, to have someone understand.