Chapter Text
“Why? Why couldn’t you have just said yes?”
He’s drunk, and he’s pathetic looking, and he knows he should have run the second he saw Alastor step into the damned bar. Gone off to lick his wounds, still fresh from the failed attack two weeks ago. He can’t trust himself around him at the best of times, and this was far from that. He knew that, deeply and truly, and yet, when Alastor spotting him, waltzing over with a smug smile and a cocky pep in his step, Vox just…let it happen. Stayed, drunk and miserable, on that bar stool, waiting for Alastor’s words to cut him open, flay him alive.
He’s not totally helpless, however, and just as Al’s mouth opens to spit out some malicious remark, he launches his question at him. It seems to disarm Alastor, if only for a moment, and his smug expression drops to one of annoyance.
“You know why.”
It’s all he says, venom heavy in how it’s spoken, heavier than Vox expects. It digs into him, annoyance flickering up into him. He doesn’t know why he was expecting an honest answer, but the response he got irked him more than any sarcastic or brutally honest one could. If he had known, he wouldn’t have fucking asked, now would he?
“I do, now do I? Why don’t you enlightenment me.”
“Hmm, no! I knew you were a quite the schemer, but really, it’s best to save us both the trouble and just fess up. We both know what happened.”
“Y’know what Al? I-“
“Don’t call me that, dear, you know better.”
His face glitches out for a moment.
“Fuck you, I’ll call you whatever I damn well please.”
“You lost that right a long time ago, and you know it.”
Every exchange wore at Vox’s patience more and more. On the bright side, he also recognized that look on Alastor’s face. His patience was also cracking, and maybe, if he played his cards right, this would end in a verbal fight rather than a physical one. Would any confession lobbed at him hurt like hell? Most definitely. But maybe he can finally move on once he knows why.
“Listen, have you ever thought that I might be asking to try and fix it? An olive branch trying to start again?”
“Even if you were, I have no interest in anything of the sort. I have no use for you as an equal anymore. Besides, you’re much more entertaining as a pathetic attempt at a rival anyways!”
The fake cheerfulness in his voice flickered in and out, and even though he was losing the battle, he wanted to win the war. Got you now, fucker.
“You know, for someone who doesn’t believe in friends, you’ve sure gotten pretty friendly with the Princess. Seems to me like you still need equals.”
“Hm, jealous much?”
Fuck, he thought that would get him. His last statement gave him pause, however. What did he mean by that?
“And what are you implying, exactly?”
“Oh dear, I knew you were dense, but this is too much! Always needing to say the quiet part out loud, hm?”
His mind, foggy from the alcohol, takes a minute to catch up. The realization hits him like a stage light falling on his head.
“You knew. About my…”
His tone isn’t soft, but it’s much quieter than before.
“Come now, darling, just because nothing gets through that thick screen of yours, doesn’t mean that I am quite as dense.”
Sparks fly from his finger tips as anger surges through his veins.
“You knew, knew how much I cared about you, and you just- what, just threw me around like a toy? Enjoyed having someone at your beck and call, then the second I dared to do anything about it, you threw me out? You… you fucking-“
“Your pathetic little feelings are not my responsibility,” Alastor grits, sharper than he’s spoken all night. He glares, radio static flaring, before he shoves his way out of the bar. Vox follows, hot on his heels, anger making him crazy. They turn into an alley, Vox chasing Al and screaming.
“Oh would you just shut the fuck up with this victim bullshit! I would have given you everything! All I asked was-“
“I DON’T WANT YOUR EVERYTHING!” Alastor yells out, shocking them both. He looks angry, yes, but also bordering on hysterics. Like talking about this is pulling up things he’s desperately tried to bury, like the emotions are being forced out of him, much to the detriment of everyone involved.
“I don’t want it. Not if the price of it is the one thing you know I can’t give! So stop. Fucking. Asking. I don’t want it. Understand? Get out of my life.”
Vox freezes, trying desperately to process everything that’s being said.
“Don’t want it? Or can’t?”
“Both. It doesn’t matter. If you truly knew me as well as you thought you did, you would understand. But you’ve always been good at lying to everyone, including yourself.”
“I don’t understand!” he whines, “Can’t what? Afford to? Because we can fix that! With both of us together, there’d be no threat to our power! We could-“
“Let me put this in a way your feeble little computer brain can understand. I can’t love you because it’s not how I’m wired. So stop trying before…”
He doesn’t bother finishing the threat, just groaning and melting into the shadows, ears still pinned back in disgust and frustration. He left Vox alone, in the cold, dark alleyway. He slides down the wall, clutching his head like a madman.
“Not wired to? Not wired to?”
The more he sat there stewing in his confusion and misery, the more his brain tried to rationalize this.
Things can be rewired. Changes can be made.
I can fix you, and make you love me. Just watch.