Splitting at the Seams (RadioApple)

Part 13 (1/2)

(GUESS WHO WROTE THE CHAPTER TOO LONG! I don't think people would appreciate a 6k chapter after consistent 2k ones, so I decided to split this one. Don't worry, the second half will be up pronto as well. Lol.)

Having never been one to shy away from this specific term before, Alastor was now entirely certain of its applicability; he had been driven utterly, raving mad by all of this.

Of course the state of his sanity had never been in any true doubt, neither by himself or any other (perhaps with the exception of his own mother, who he was rather sure had simply been in denial) but the strange cocktail that consisted his mind had went from a familiar chaos to a new and unfamiliar kind of upset.

Perhaps the universe was out to get him. Or perhaps it was simply Lucifer The Morningstar, screwing up his entire days like it was a pastime.

Gods, he truly hadn't been so aggravating at first. All that bedside hovering and fussing was terribly domestic, but it neatly straddled the line from irritation to endearment. Now, having apparently taken Alastor's messup with his self-medication as a sign the radio demon was as intelligent as an ape and was liable to kill himself if left unchecked, Lucifer had switched from a caring nurse to a full-time stalker.

Since that fated dinner, Alastor opened his eyes every morning to Lucifer's beaming face, more menacing than summery, a nutritional beverage in hand and a timeline for treatments in the other. Mercifully, blissfully Alastor had soon been removed from the IV drip after this had all begun, but it was immediately replaced with a whole host of other medications in the form of little tablets, all with specific ingestion requirements. One mandated it be drank with orange juice, another interacted TERRIBLY with citrus and had to be taken seperately - but both had to be taken 'in the morning'!

While that was being mathed out by the two of them, Lucifer would encourage (read: force) Alastor to accompany him down to the hotel's dining area - slowly growing in popularity as more and more entities flocked to the building for salvation - and hovered over him as a fearsome matron until Alastor buckled and choked down whatever tripe had been pumped out by the kitchen staff today. More rarely Charlie could be found spicing up a storm herself by the hob, and the times Alastor tried to refuse his meal Lucifer would lean close to his ear and threaten to tell her the truth of his condition. It was a successful strategy.

No matter what he did through the day, the overlord wouldn't be left alone. Lazing about reading a book? Lucifer was suddenly also in the mood for some light reading. Fancy a walk around the hotel gardens? Lucifer was a dedicated and passionate gardener all of a sudden. Just fancy laying in bed and praying for a certain fallen angel to piss off and die? Why, Lucifer was all too eager to tuck him in!

Alastor's only hope was that it would have to cease if he recuperated enough to walk about town proper. Even Lucifer would not risk compromising his valuable reputation to race after a sinner so below him like a clingy girlfriend.

The current day began as any other. Alastor opened two bleary eyes to the now familiar sight of Lucifer's cartoonishly bright ones, the innapropriate proximity (he could FEEL the man's breath dusting over his own lips, for someone's sake) ignored in favour of slowly sitting up against the headboard, mindful not to pull at his torso as the devil held up the usual set of pills. After sorting those he allowed Lucifer to maneuver him downward, only to swiftly excuse himself to the bathroom.

In the privacy of the lavatory, Alastor slumped and let out a world-weary groan. 10am, and he was already completely overwhelmed. This day couldn't go as the ones before it had, he wouldn't tolerate it. Now was the time to try and get some peace and solitude.

A flick of the fingers brought his shadow to him, the poor thing somewhat deflated and a bit peaky from having been supressed so violently so consistently. The overlord daren't bring it out nearly so frivolously as he'd used to now that Lucifer was apparently glued to his side, so it had become restless and squirmed inside his chest with the desperation of a caged animal. It understood the danger, obviously, yet it strained to be free regardless. It was in its nature, so he could hardly blame it. He himself had gone stir crazy confined to his room.