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writerof-thewoods · 2 months

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A Weapon? A Monster? A Child.

Regressor! Alastor and CG! Rosie <3 Word count: 2193

He could hear them. Their mocking, jeering voices at his new found problem. The great, terrifying Alastor a puppet to something else, how little in control he was of anything. He couldn’t shake them out of his head. Every second filled with their reverberating laughs and yet, Alastor could do nothing but endure.

He winced as he tried to stand, hands shaking and bones weary. Oh how cowardly he must’ve looked, barely able to stand on his two feet, hiding behind his shadow as he retreats to the one place he found solace. His radio tower.

And not even that eased his ever growing fear. Whatever was left of it stood before him, a grim sight that made his already unwell state much, much worse. It served as another reminder of his failure. To see the very thing that kept him sane all these years defiled in such a manner. He truly had no idea how to react. Part of him wanted to go stark raving mad, and the other….

He slowly, unsteadily made his way through the wreckage that lay in front of it, his body ringing with each sting that came. It also didn’t help that he was regretfully known as something he hated to his core. He was a little. Such a pathetic aspect that he, much to his gratitude, managed to keep hidden from everyone else. Oftentimes even himself until it caught up to him once in a blue moon. No one knew and no one would know if he could keep it up the way he had the past few decades. However, that seemed much more unlikely given his current situation. The attack was so easily avoidable and yet, he still got hurt. He could’ve been killed and how he so narrowly avoided Adam’s final blow was beyond him. Now, he would’ve actually preferred it because then he wouldn’t have to face the aftermath that he knew was yet to come.

It terrified him. To know of how much weakness he was showing. He could only hope, no, beg that no one saw and once he made his way inside, he exhaled in relief. He was alone. A disgrace, but alone nonetheless. Despite his rather embarrassing secret, he willed himself not to let it affect him. Not the fact that a huge chunk of his prized room was missing altogether, let alone the mess that was the inside of it. Reaching his table, the pain stumped him once again, making him fall to his knees. His smile wavered and he bared his teeth as he found himself underneath it. Sighing strained in relief, the safety of the confined space only worsened his struggle between headspaces.

On one hand he just wouldn’t allow himself to, and on the other, he had no control over it. His body ached inside and out, his heart panged heavily on the fact that he was losing it, and underneath all of it, he felt so…scared. He was a fawn caught in a wolf’s den. A little boy hiding from the bastard he shared a bloodline with, hoping to God he wouldn’t find him. A cornered animal and with that, it was all too much.

He couldn’t handle it anymore.

He slipped.

********

The fight may have been over, but that didn’t stop Rosie from feeling, at the very least, a little concerned. It wasn’t just the fear of losing everything she’d known that ailed her. It was losing the people she cared about. Really, the one person she cared about the most. And since it was finished, she hadn’t seen him at all, not even once and it was starting to worry her.

Alastor was Rosie’s best friend, and she just couldn’t bear to lose him. Not like that.

Looking over at the celebration behind her, she smiled fondly. She couldn’t be more happy for the unlikely group of residents, despite hardly knowing most of them. Charlie was such a darling, how could she not? Even as they stood under a building in desperate need of fixing, she still looked so happy. So proud. It was…admirable, to say the least. To watch her and her friends be so passionate about their achievements warmed her heart.

Still though, as she turned her head in thought, something was…off. She could sense it even if she wasn’t sure what exactly “it” was.

Speaking of which, there was one thing missing from such a display of victor, or rather, one person. Someone who would be even more supportive than she was. Where was Alastor?

The rest seemed to pick up on that and Charlie asked the same thing as well. The rest kind of shrugged with mutterings of “I’m not sure” or “Last I saw was during the fight, so it beats me.” That didn’t help much in easing her anxieties. As they began looking, some albeit more willingly than the rest, she sighed. Her eyebrow raised, she took off to look for the demon. After all, she of all people ought to know where he was.

She walked up to the one place she figured he might be. Everywhere else came out to be unsuccessful, so there was really one place left. Holding the hem of her skirt as she climbed up the stairs, Rosie walked curiously to the radio tower. Nothing out of the ordinary there, disregarding the very obvious debris. She couldn’t see anything, but if her nose and ears served her right, something was very, very wrong. The scent of blood seeped from beyond the door making her feel oddly nauseous for once, her stomach churning at what could be waiting for her. Thinking better of it, she steeled herself and went inside.

The blood trailed over to his desk at a concerning amount. Stepping over the rubble, her gut wrenching at the sight of something he cared so much about ruined without a second thought, she called out gently.

“Alastor? Sweetie, you in here?” She craned her neck, unable to see anything. “Everyone’s been looking for you.” She stepped carefully, avoiding the coat rack that now lay on the floor just waiting to trip some unsuspecting person. Suddenly, a low sound of strained breathing rumbled from his form, an ear perking up at hearing her come in. That gave it away to Rosie as she approached the desk even closer, her feet just inches away from his crumpled body.

And that’s when he found him.

Crouching down, she saw a not quite unfamiliar sight. The all powerful Radio Demon’s smile gone, eyes squeezed shut as he lay curled into himself. Rosie knew what this was, she’d seen it before, but definitely not to this extent. Her head cocked to the side, she whispered.

“Alastor..?”

Eyes nervously squeezed open, big, wide, doe eyes pouring into her as they tried to hide his fear to no avail. Glassy from tears hiding behind him that threatened to pour at any moment. Rosie’s heart squeezed in a way it very rarely did. Not unfamiliar to her, but the circumstances she found him certainly were. At the sight of her, the little shuddered, a pleading look on his face.

“Oh..” Rosie gasped, crawling to his side and reaching out her hand, holding the side of his head. “You poor dear, is this where you’ve been all this time?”

He didn’t have the words to respond, flinching slightly at her touch. Strained, he nodded his head slowly, uncurling himself slightly at her asking to see what happened. God, it hurt so much. He just wanted his mama, even though he knew she wouldn’t come. He sniffled, choking back a sob that escaped his throat.

Rosie clicked her tongue and moved closer to pull him into her arms. Seeing him like this threatened to make her cry as well, wishing so desperately she would've come sooner. How long had he been like this? So scared and in pain. Part of her wanted to shake her head at his stubbornness, but she knew it wasn’t the time. The fawn just about broke as he pressed his head into her chest, giving in to the pain that rang throughout his body. His broken cries barely muffled by his best friend’s vise-like hold.

“Oh my sweet thing, it’s alright.” She whispered, moving instinctively to brush the hair out of his face and pulling a handkerchief from her skirt. “I got you. Why don’t we get you out of here, hmm?” She tilted her head down at him, feeling him nod against her chest. “Now just hold still for a moment. It’s gonna hurt a little, but it’ll be quick, okay? Take a deep breath.” She inhaled deeply, crawling out from under the table and moving to pick him up.

Alastor groaned at the motion, wincing as Rosie avoided his injuries and lifted him into her arms like a bride. Normally he would’ve laughed at such a feat of strength, the thought distracting him from the sharp jolt in his wounds. “There we go, you did a swell job baby! Such a brave boy.” Rosie walked out of the room, making a mental note to clean up his blood from the floor later and thought about where to go from here. She certainly didn’t want to leave him here, nor draw any attention from the others. There was always her emporium, even if it was a bit away. Yeah, that was a good idea. He’d be less...manic later on without anyone else knowing. And she was more certain he’d be safe there. That was all that mattered.

*******

The baby sat on the toilet, curiously watching as Rosie rolled up her sleeves and went to work taking off his jacket. It was clear that Alastor needed stitches at the very least, if not something more later on. He didn’t seem to have any more serious injuries underneath, but it still didn’t look good. The other threaded the needle after cleaning him up the best she could and knelt down in front of him.

“Okay kiddo, now you’re not gonna like this, but I gotta do it. So take a big breath for me and we’ll get this over with, sound good?” Rosie admitted sympathetically. Piecing the skin together, she went to work suturing him up. Funnily enough, she’d done this plenty of times before, so really, it went by much quicker than she anticipated.

“And...done! Look at you, being such a strong boy. That’s my Alastor alright! Isn’t it?” She cooed, laughing when he bleated happily in response. It wasn’t a common noise, however, it was one characteristic of his deerish nature he didn’t seem to despise. It was…well it was pretty damn cute. To the both of them and especially Rosie.

Once again she picked him up and carried him into the room. Judging by his increasingly longer yawns, she knew he had to be exhausted. The day didn’t even feel like just a day and for Alastor it must’ve felt like a week at the very least. Discarding his tattered suit, she looked through her chest of drawers and pulled out a pair of fuzzy pajamas. Rosie pulled them over his worn-out, shockingly lanky frame; he looked as if he hadn’t eaten in days. She’d have to do something about that later, she thought. Ruffling the top of his head, she watched as the little one rubbed tiredly at his ever-so drooping eyes and walked across the room to turn out the light. And following that, she turned on the phonograph to its lowest volume. A familiar lullaby flooding the air. He whined slightly at her walking away, earning him a little tease from the other. “Hey now, I’m gonna be right back. I’m not going anywhere.” She sat next to him on the bed and put an arm around his shoulders. “See?”

The fawn turned to look at the woman and blinked slowly. Not quite registering her reappearance until he felt her hand. Alastor huffed, tiredness clouding his mind and tucked his head into her shoulder. Rosie moved to pull the covers down and laid him down underneath them. Dried tear tracks stained his cheeks and right as he was about to fall asleep he turned his head up at her. The same pleading gaze as before, asking her not to leave him. Her hand to her chest, she drew in a breath.

“Of course my little fawn, I’ll stay. Is that what you’re asking?” Alastor cooed, the smaller holding out his hand. Rosie smiled and took his hand in hers, running her thumb across the top of his fingers. She hummed alongside the phonograph and watched as he drifted off to sleep, breathing lightly as if the day had never even happened. Rosie kissed the top of his forehead, lingering for a minute more before whispering.

“Sweet dreams darling, I’ll be here when you wake up. Nothing can hurt you now, I promise.”

Having it all over with, Rosie was happy. It may take time for it all to heal, but at least in the moment, her friend, her little fawn was okay and for her, that was enough.

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