Chapter Text
He’s felt this chill before.
“Well hello there,” a low voice echoes around him in the void he’s standing in the center of. “It seems we’re meeting sooner than expected.”
“And you are?” He’s never feared judgment day, he just expected it to be a bit warmer.
He thought he’d go straight to hell.
“Who I am is of little concern to you.” A woman, at least that’s what the voice sounds like. He can see pale white eyes staring at him but nothing else, “You should focus on what I have to offer.”
“ Hm , yes, I suppose I should let my soul linger in this limbo.” Alastor stretches his neck but stops when he feels how unnaturally long it feels. His eyes widen when he sees his hands.
Grey, the kind he’d puff out after a long draw from a cigar. He had stopped smoking when you returned to the house, after all, it’d be bad for the baby if you inhaled such filth. Y/N, his pretty wife, was probably worried sick at home right now. Had you called Rosie, hoping she’d know where he was? Maybe you went looking yourself? Maybe the cops had found him with the body, he had been shot so someone would’ve had to see him in action. If the cops found him then they’d know of his crime and investigate further, search the house, dig in the garden and find bones.
And his poor Y/N would be the one they questioned.
“I can help you-” The voice whispers in his ear now, “-For a price.”
“Oh? I’m fond of deals.” Alastor’s smile stretches from ear to ear as he glances down, his reflection staring back. It’s not quite his, elongated and every sharp feature before now a deeper slope. His eyes- red, narrow. His hair- a bloody red with black ends that’s not as curly as before. His ears…furry? How curious. “I suppose you’re a demon in need of a soul, but know I have some conditions.”
“You’re in no position to be demanding-”
“Neither are you.”
She knew then that he’d be a perfect tool, cunning and clever, exactly what she’d need.
“Hush now, you’ll wake the world with those lungs.” You coo, cradling the infant in your arms. She’s almost one now, heavier than you remember.
She was born prematurely, a week after Alastor…you aren’t sure what happened. You know whatever it was had to be bad, but you refused to think it could be death. Deep down of course you knew- but you refused to accept it. He would come back, he had to meet his daughter .
Aloise Alastor Leblanc.
She was her father’s twin, the only thing she got from you was your eyes and lips, maybe your hands but everything else reeked of that man. She has his chestnut eyes that brighten when you kiss her forehead, had Alastor’s laugh, had his smile- the one you missed so very much every time the baby flashed it you felt a piece of you break.
He’d come back.
He had to.
You carry little Aloise downstairs and find Niffty at the table with Rosie, the two giggling over an article about Rosie’s latest show. Her business had grown so much she had textile factories now, making enough to help support you when you went to her in tears. She greets you with breakfast, thick pancakes, and eyes that know something you don’t. Before you can ask, you hear a squeal slip out of Niffty as she takes off to the door.
“Y/N! Come quick!”
You fear it’s cops again, hoping they don’t have a warrant. They had tried to pressure you into entering the last time they showed up but wouldn’t give you a reason- not that you really needed one. You hold Aloise a little closer, rubbing her back as her hands ball in your shirt. Hungry, you should nurse her soon, but it’s better you do it after handling whatever men were sent to badger your door. You shoo Niffty away before opening it to keep her from running out, the girl having spent the past few months “hunting” Alastor. She’d always cry when she came back with no one, and you’d always have to soothe her to sleep with tea and a slice of cake. You take a deep breath, preparing to tell your husband’s whereabouts once again.
But this time you don’t say I don’t know .
You say nothing, frozen with wide eyes.
“I hope I’m not too late for dinner,” he says it so casually, softly, gaze sweeter than the smile on his face as he leans down. “I’ve missed my lovely wife.”
You must be dreaming, surely this has to be some kind of drug-induced daze. Did Rosie give you that medicated tea again, the kind you drink when you’re too restless to rest. No, she looks too…confused. Everyone is in the living room, sitting across from Alastor as he holds Aloise with awe.
“She’s beautiful, Y/N.” His heart throbs when your eyes meet, “Just like her mother.”
“I…I need a moment.” You need an eon! He just shows up after months of being gone and without an explanation. Your heart feels like it’s going to implode, eyes welling with tears as you run off to your bedroom.
Breathe, Y/N, you must.
A quiet knock rattles the door but you know who it is before it opens, after all, his knock has never changed. He peeks in when you stay silent, slipping inside when you hold his gaze. You bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from sobbing, sinking into his arms when he wraps them around you. He smells as good as you remember, tastes even better. Gentle, his kiss lingers when he pulls away to cup your face and wipe your tears. You’ve missed looking into those eyes, waking up to them admiring you as you stirred, missed the way they flit away when he’s bashful. He wants to tell you everything yet can’t seem to find the words to, and would you really believe him?
Of course you would.
“I can explain-”
“Don’t bother, it won’t change a thing.” You bury your face in the crook of his neck, taking a long draw. “Just hold me, give me a memory to keep when you leave again.”
“Y/N, I’m not going anywhere.” He sighs when you glare up at him, “I…I mean it. I swear on my soul.”
The soul he no longer has.
The soul he sacrificed for you- for your family .
His conditions were simple: Let him return to life, and let him spend what was left of his time with you without interference from anyone or anything. The demon he made the deal with was oddly silent when he told it his rules, compassion flickering in it’s eyes but only for a moment before they hardened. After some time spent staring at each other, they shook hands, and Alastor felt something tear in his core that made him crumble to the ground. When he stood again he was in front of the house, which was repainted a pretty ivory on the outside and had Rosie’s car parked in the driveway and smoke coming from the chimney. He knocked with shaky hands, stood, and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
It opened to the prettiest woman in the world, and in her hands, a gift he had robbed himself of.
This time he’d cherish it, he'd cherish every moment until it was his last.