Chapter Text
Jenny, darling, you're my best friend
But there's a few things that you don't know of
Why I borrow your lipstick so often
I'm using your shirt as a pillow case
Blood.
Blood isn't supposed to be a bad thing, damn it. It's red. And red means good things are about to begin. Red means I'm about to ascend. Red means I love you.
And Alastor... Al...
He's always been red. Always been beautiful. Always been there for me with his smiling mouth and his sharp humor and his cheerful laugh. That damn laugh. He's not laughing now.
Why isn't he laughing?
He should be sitting up and scorning the big puddle of red forming around him. Mocking it. Mocking me. Why... why is he so still? Please, Alastor. Get up, mock me. You have to. You're so good at it, aren't you? Damn it, why won't you move?
As my vision bursts in blurry pixels, the color is all I can make out. Red.
On that coat he cares about more than his health, on the stupid bob I've told him to get trimmed a thousand times, on a foggy monocle that's half-shattered over a frozen eye.
He doesn't blink.
He just stares at me.
Or stares through me.
"...no."
My voice glitches harshly. The pain hasn't begun yet, but I can feel it building in my chest, a feedback loop circling around and around as my sensors pick up on a failing pulse, a fluttering, dying thing that's going so fast, so fast, so...
"ALASTOR!"
I'm running. Or trying to. There's a stabbing sensation computing in my right shoulder socket and my lower stomach that makes it hard, but I don't give a fuck. I slip in the red and crumple to my knees beside him, breathing shallowly.
Error. Error. This can't be happening.
"Al," I rasp, modulators worn thin from screaming. "Pal. Just look at me. Please..."
But I don't think he can.
I don't think he ever will again.
And it's all my fucking fault.