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Alastor sighed as he made his way to his room. The exhaustion he felt was more than he could articulate; his battle with Adam paled in comparison to the fight he had with Vox. Yet Alastor had enjoyed it all the same; it was rather cathartic fighting an old friend, knowing how much disdain and obsession the man had for him. He found it funny, the fact that he could still, after all this time, get under Vox’s skin, manipulate him into getting exactly what he wanted, and now here he was, no longer shackled, a free man. Still his body from the beating he took by Vox’s accursed pet was beginning to wear on him. Blood seeped from his arm, his chest it pooled and dripped from his mouth; he narrowed his eyes, annoyed at the fact that despite having both his contracts broken, his wounds had yet to fully heal.
He leaned against one of the walls; he took in a deep breath before teleporting the rest of the way into his room. Before falling to one knee, he gripped his staff like a lifeline; his shadow looked at him with concern but Alastor was determined to keep at least some shred of dignity left. He righted himself and collapsed onto his chair, next to his vanity. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh, content with just letting himself sit there and bleed out if it meant that he didn’t have to move anymore. His eyes hurt when he opened them as he looked at his reflection. He looked… awful. Suit torn, stitched up with magic, blood dripping from his body, bags under his eyes.
Suddenly, his ears twitched as he heard the sound of scurrying in the vents above his room. Any normal sinner would wonder what that was but Alastor knew immediately. How could he forget the sound of Niffty’s soft but hurried scuttling and the noise of giggling she made as she grew closer to him.
Alastor smiled, watching intently as the vent cover abruptly came off its hinges and clattered to the floor noisily, and then Niffty came tumbling out a second later. She popped back up, dusting herself off, and turned to look at him with a smile as big as his own. “Hi, Alastor!”
“Hello my dear.” He says warmly, “Tell me, what brings you my way? After everything that happened, I would expect that you rest what’s left of the day away.”
Niffty giggled, shaking her head and holding something behind her back. “Oh no, there’s still so much to fix around here, sir!”
He tilted his head to the side, curious. “Oh? Like what?”
She grinned, as she pulled whatever she was hiding out from behind her back; it was a case filled with medical supplies. “Like you!”
Cleaning things wasn’t Niffty’s only trait; despite what many people would believe, his dear little bundle of chaos was actually rather good at fixing things as well, sewing up clothes, and tending to injuries, she was quite handy with her needles, on and off the battlefield. “I saw all the blood on the floor in the hallway, it smelled like yours, so I knew you must be hurt!” Niffty innocently asks, quickly opening up the case and pulling out a needle and thread, “Can I help? I’m good at helping!”
Alastor looked at the little maid, saw the concern and enthusiasm in her eye. For him, always for him. His eyes softened, “Of course, my dear.”
The next couple of minutes was spent in near silence as Niffty methodically stitched up his wounds along his chest, his legs and arms. She was doing a much better job than he had done himself; the lines were neatly straight and tided off securely. Preventing anyone from ripping them out again. The arm that got bitten by Vox’s shark was something Niffty was paying extra attention to; she could see the damage those teeth did to his bones and was putting gauze along his arms, even a makeshift sling in case his arm was broken. Alastor let out a small hum; it was like she had done this many times before. Which, given what he knew about her, she probably had.
He closed his eyes and for a moment, let himself bask in the quiet.
“Done!” Niffty announced cheerfully
Alastor straightened himself up, cracked his neck, and stretched his arms. “As good as new!” He let out a loud huff of laughter, then he reached out and patted her on the head, “Thank you, my dear.”
Niffty giggled, leaning into his touch, before crawling up and onto his lap like a kitten. He allowed her too, as he often did. Unlike most sinners, Niffty is the only one whom he’s the most comfortable around; he allowed her to crawl on him, rest on his shoulders, and even the occasional hug now and then, he would even allow her to cling to his leg whenever she got too stressed about having nothing to clean. Those were bad days, the agitation that crawled along her skin, at having nothing to do, most would find that relaxing, but his little maid found it suffocating. He did his best to calm her during such episodes. Luckily, he’s found that a simple physical gesture or a walk around the city seems to be enough to ease her body.
“Are you feeling any better?” She asked, her voice level but there was something about her tone that made him tilt his head.
“Fit as a fiddle, thanks to you!” He answered joyfully, playfully poking her nose, normally that gesture would give her the opportunity to bit at him, like the little feral thing she was but strangely not today. “Niffty, dear.” He said, voice fond and concern, a tone he only ever used for her. “Are you alright?” He felt the young woman stiffen; he looked in the mirror and saw it morph into shock before settling on a look of sadness.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
He gave her a questioning look, “Whatever for?”
“I came to help, but I didn’t do a good job. You got hurt and were gone for so long…” Niffty fiddled with the needle in her hands, pricking one finger after another. “I couldn’t fix anything.”
Alastor blinked at such a confession; rarely did he ever see Niffty express such guilt before, rarely did he ever see such a look of sadness on her usually smiling face? This was new, something he never thought she’d do. And he didn’t like it, it made something in his chest tighten, suddenly remembering the gun that Valentino pointed at her face, for a moment, just a moment, his breath hitched and his eyes widened. No no, this wasn’t part of his plan, she was never supposed to get hurt. He didn’t want to admit it but yes, he was worried about her.
A tear suddenly ran down her cheek.
Alastor then recalled the times in his youth flashed in his mind, where the bullies and the people in his town looked at him with disdain, where he’d run home, and into his maman’s arms. Where she’d stroke his hair and sing a soft lullaby to him. His features softened, and gently he took the needle away from her, placing it on his vanity, and looked her in the eye. “My darling Niffty.” He said, “My feral little doll. You have been more help to me than you’ll ever truly know. You’ve always known just what I need in any moment, whether that be personal space, a quiet filled room, food, or a quick bit of laughter.”
Niffty sniffed, furiously wiping away the tears, “R-Really?”
“Of course, my dear!” He announced enthusiastically. “Why just look at me now, before I was covered in blood, no one being the wiser, but you, my dear, here you were with all your brilliance and stitched me back together.” He said soothingly, raising a finger, placing it under her chin and lifting her head to meet his gaze. “You have my deepest gratitude, dear.”
Niffty wiped the rest of her tears away, and finally smiled at him, “Thank you, sir.”
“You’re welcome,” He said, his tone as soft as velvet, ruffling her hair. “Now is that all you needed to tell me?”
“Yup!” She giggled before a yawn escaped her. “Oh did I tell you what Baxter did to my roaches?”
Alastor blinked, the name escaped him but he deduced that she must be talking about the fish that was there amongst all the overlords singing. “No, but do tell!” He let her chatter about for the next couple of minutes, informing him about all that he had missed while he was away. And he held onto every word, as he often did when it came to Niffty and her stories. Then, when another yawn escaped her midway through another tale, Alastor announced that they both should be going to bed.
“Can I stay here tonight?”
“Of course!” He answered without hesitation, “But after the grueling day we had, I insist you take the bed.”
“Okay!” Niffty jumped off his lap and ran towards his bed, leaping on it face first, giggling manically.
Alastor chuckled as he walked over and slumped onto the sofa. “Sleep well, my dear.”
Hours passed, the ticking of the clock echoed throughout his room, and when Alastor woke, he opened his eyes and saw a mop of unkempt red hair. He looked down and saw that somehow during the night, Niffty had crawled into his arms and settled there peacefully. A smile formed on his face at the sight; gently, he brushed her bangs away from his face just like he recalled his maman doing to him, he inhaled deeply basking in the quiet for a moment before settling back to sleep.