The Boy Next Door

Wingman

!TW! Conflict, drug use, alcohol, suggestive topics

                                 Nine Years

It was late July

To say things had improved for them was...

sort of true.

Alastor's behaviour had changed a little in the past months. He was slightly less composed, but nothing too out of the ordinary. His kill count had gone up, the past few months having been specifically filled with perfect opportunities which he took.

Elisabeth was mostly the same. Her relationship with Rosie was still in it's very early stages. Both of them had decided to take it slow, and so far things were really working out.

Anthony was overall more happy than the previous April. But there were a few things that didn't seem quite right. While he was definitely still affectionate, he had grown more distant. Spending a lot of his time on his own. It wasn't too concerning, he seemed fine the first few months. Although his appearance had changed a bit. More pale and clearly having lost a small amount of weight. Something that Elisabeth noticed, and it only worried her more. Not to mention how defensive he would get when she tried to bring it up. Alastor had attempted multiple times to get an answer. Unfortunately every single attempt resulted in a fight. But he wasn't going to let up just yet.

Alastor flinched a bit as the door was slammed, walking out of the front hallway and slumping against the couch. Bringing a hand to massage his temples as he took a few minutes to cool down. He could hear Anthony pacing in the room above him, and it only pushed him further. Muttering a few things under his breath, he sat up straighter. Elisabeth walked out of the kitchen, sitting across from him. "You know, it's very unpleasant to listen to you both scream at each other." She said, clearly unamused by all the drama. "It's not my fault he's so dramatic. I swear to god if I see him roll his eyes at me one more time-" Elisabeth shook her head. "Alastor, you know I don't like to pick sides here, but I really do think this situation needs to be confronted." Alastor sat up, more on the edge of his seat and pointed at the stairs. "I haven't done anything! He's the one making a big deal out of me simply being concerned for him!" Elisabeth stood up, dusting off her skirt and walking back to the kitchen. "Well, I will leave you to be angry with him. I didn't come out here to be yelled at about wrong and right." She said, turning to walk into the other room. Alastor sighed, still able to hear his lover pacing above him.

Eventually when Elisabeth had finished cooking, she had Alastor help set the table while she walked to the bottom of the stairs. "Angel! We're having dinner!" She called up, knowing all to well he had heard her. Alastor walked into the kitchen to get one more thing before he sat down. Turning to walk back into the dining room he saw Elisabeth already sitting, and Anthony standing behind the table. Eyes immediately narrowing at the blonde who returned the look. "Alastor." He said, giving him a once over, his expression anything but pleased. "Anthony." He replied, venom laced into his words as he sat at the table. Elisabeth simply sipped her drink, eyes wide and staring at the table, clearly uncomfortable with the situation she found herself in the middle of. Anthony pulled out his chair and sat with them, eyes remaining anywhere but on Alastor, who in turn stared at the blonde. Which he eventually caught onto. "The hell are you lookin at?" He asked quickly. "A very immature child." The brunette snapped back. "Oh I'm immature?" He said, eye narrowing at the man. "Yes. You are." Elisabeth stood up, gathering her plates and turning to walk away. "I'll eat elsewhere." Alastor sighed, shaking his head. "And now you've drivin mama away." He said, clearly unimpressed. Anthony scoffed, slumping back against his seat. "So will I be sleeping downstairs tonight?" He asked, more casually. Anthony shook his head. "No I will. Still your room, I'm just a guest." He said simply. Alastor sat up a bit more. "You live here Anthony, stop acting like this isn't your house too." The blonde sighed. "Okay fine..." Alastor glanced up, and then turned his attention back to the blonde. "Actually I've been meaning to ask you, do you perhaps think we should get a bigger bed? Mine is only meant for one person." He said. Anthony thought for a few seconds, tapping his chin. "Uh...maybe. Ask Elisa." Elisabeth leaned against the doorway. "So you aren't fighting?" Both of them turned to look at her. "We are, this is just a conversation I've been meaning to have." Alastor replied quickly. Anthony nodded, not disagreeing with the statement. "So...should I leave you too it?" She asked, tilting her head. The blonde shrugged, turning back to face Alastor. "Do whatever ya like." Picking up the fork and fidgeting with it, he glanced up at the brunette in front of him. "Anthony I don't want to keep fighting with you about this." The blonde set the form down. "Hey, same." He replied simply. "Then can't you tell me what is going on with you?" Anthony frowned, slumping back in his chair. "Nothing is going on with me, you're just bein paranoid. Alastor all our problems regarding me have basically come to an end. No one's seen my dad for a long time, Val is dead, and my house is gone." Alastor shook his head at that answer. "So have we given up the search for Molly?" He asked, expression faltering. Anthony physically deflated a bit at that. Nodding his head a few times. "Yeah, there's no point anymore. She doesn't wanna be found..." Alastor nodded, taking a sip of his drink. "I'm sorry." Anthony quickly looked up. "For what?" He asked quickly. "This, your sister, the fighting, all of it." Anthony was quiet for a second, then got up and walked around to the other side of the table. Slowly kneeling next to him and grabbing his hand. "It's not your fault, and I promise I'm fine." He said quietly. Alastor gave his hand a small squeeze. "I want to believe you Anthony, believe me I do." The blonde frowned at that, reaching his other hand to tilt his head and look at him. "Then just believe me. Come on Alastor, I trust you, why can't you trust me?" The brunette frowned. "Anthony, why are you trying to guilt trip me?" He asked quickly. The blonde groaned, slumping forward. "You suck." He said reluctantly as he stood up. "And we are back to petty insults?" "And you're so above them? You called me a child a few minutes ago." Alastor narrowed his eyes at him. "Because that's simply how you were behaving." Anthony quickly turned to face him, slamming a hand down on the table. "Ya know what? Fuck you. I gave up so much to be here, and no one in this house trusts me anymore!" He said quickly, pointing at the brunette. "Well, when you look sick and also committed arson on impulse, people are bound to be more wary. It's not that I don't trust you. Because I do trust you! I just want to know you are okay!" Anthony went quiet, just standing there as he thought everything over. "...Smiles..." Alastor stood up, was this it? Was he going to get an answer? The blonde abruptly just turned out of the room and left, leaving Alastor standing there.