Priceless (Alastor X Reader)

Between Channels

Alastor's POV:

"Are you angry?" I asked.

"No."

"Are you disappointed?"

"No," She paused.

Both of us stared out into the sea of white. Like an open world of nothing but light. Impossible to tell where illumination was coming from; it was easier to say it was everywhere and everything.

Just sitting side by side, on a park bench in the middle of vastness. There was no wind. No sound. Just light, this bench, and the two of us.

"It's not my place to judge you, cher." She continued. "I don't have to agree with all the choices you make. I love you, and that hasn't changed even for a moment."

We must have been talking for hours. But somehow it only felt like minutes. Her expression was soft, her presence was comforting like a warm blanket on a winter evening. She looks healthier than the last time I saw her, and the halo suits her perfectly.

Funny how some things can feel as though they simply pick up where they left off. How even after a while, in this case, decades: a person doesn't treat you like a stranger.

But really, why would she? She was my mother after all.

"I'm glad you found each other again." She sighed with a smile. "Of all places to be, at least there's love."

"But only so briefly."

I cast my gaze downward, bowing my head almost in a sense of defeat. "The rest was just wistful longing. The belle spent near a century wanting to hate me." I added.

"But she didn't. She missed you."

"Be that as it may it didn't make her confusion and sadness any less real." I said while heaving a sigh. "Nor did it lessen how much it hurt to spend all that time wondering if she was alright. And feeling remorse for what I had done. That's still a feeling I'm struggling to understand, even ninety two years later."

My mother listened attentively and nodded. She remained quiet, and for a moment I feared her silence may have hinted to something more vilifying in emotion. But knowing the woman she was, she's as kind hearted as she is honest. And I took a sort of solace in knowing if she truly felt repulsed by anything we've discussed, she would have said so by now.

Perhaps she just didn't have the words. Or, she was simply focused on understanding. Whatever the reason, I carried on with my lament.

"It's strange... For as long as I can remember I could mimic kindness without fail. Although I scarcely felt it, I could understand sympathy enough to follow the script. The first couple days, Y/n was no exception. Before I even knew what hit me it was no longer an act. It was second nature, almost like a reflex... The thought of baring any ill will toward her actually made my heart ache... Why was it suddenly so easy with her?"

A rather amused chuckle graced my ears, she smiled warmly, and shook her head again.

"Love can sneak up on you, and it will make you do things that can feel very out of character." She said. "She loves you, too. After all: it's not every day someone denies a chance in Heaven."

'Denies a chance?' I wondered. 'But why was she... I thought that I...?'

"W-what do you mean?"

"The archangels told her she could enter the gates of Heaven. She wanted to be with you, instead."

"I don't understand," I said, shaking my head. Not at all trying to hide the confusion that was carved into my features. "I thought we weren't given a choice."