Lovers Once More - Radiostatic

Suits

The next day, Alastor, Vox, and a finally fever-free Niffty set off to shop for wedding suits. Niffty, still with a small lingering cough, tagged along eagerly, darting between racks of fabric and buzzing with her usual energy.

As they examined a selection of suits, Niffty was hit by a sudden coughing fit. Alastor, patting her back gently, murmured apologies to the store clerk, a sharply dressed woman who didn't seem pleased to be working with them.

With a dismissive look, she scoffed, "Why on earth would you bring her here if she's sick? Can't you just keep her home? That's just stupid and irresponsible parenting." She shot Alastor a scathing glare. "Maybe you shouldn't even be a parent if you can't take care of a child."

A strained silence filled the air as Alastor's face fell. Vox took a step forward, ready to cut in, but Alastor stopped him with a raised hand. The hurt in his eyes shifted to an exhausted determination as he looked directly at the woman, his voice trembling with the weight of his words.

"You don't get to tell me how to take care of her," he said quietly, then the words poured out in a mix of frustration and pain. "She's all I've got, and I am doing the best I can. And she's... she's not even mine. I never had kids, because I died before I got the chance. And even if I'd lived, I wouldn't have been able to have a child—not in the life I had, not being... not being gay." He stopped to catch his breath, visibly shaken, his voice thick. "I know she's sick; I caught it first, but I still took care of her! I dragged myself around, day after day, making sure she was safe, that she was warm, that she had everything she needed, while I was sick as a fucking dog, but did I stop? No, because I CAN take care of a child!."

The woman looked at him, taken aback, but Alastor's words kept coming, each one heavier than the last. "Don't you ever assume you know what someone's going through, or how they parent. I feel bad every day that she got sick, but I've done everything I can. And I won't apologize for that."

He finished in near-tears, turning away to compose himself. Vox stood beside him, speechless, the revelation of Alastor's illness settling in as he reached out to squeeze his shoulder.

The woman, silent and visibly chastened, muttered a quiet apology before slipping away to find them another salesperson.

Alastor walked off towards the bathroom to collect himself, leaving Vox and Niffty in a lingering silence. Niffty, glancing up with watery eyes, started to sniffle.

"Did I make Alastor sad, Vox?" she asked, voice small and worried. Her fingers clutched tightly onto the fabric of his jacket.

Vox bent down, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "No, honey, not at all. He wasn't upset with you. He was just telling that lady exactly how much he cares about you."

Niffty sniffled, looking a little reassured, but her face still held worry. "Are you sure?"

Vox grinned, an unmistakable glint of mischief lighting up his eyes. "Absolutely sure. In fact, he was pretty much just telling her to shove it!."

At that, Niffty burst into laughter, her tears drying as she giggled at Vox's exaggerated tone. Vox laughed along with her, relieved to see her spirits lifted.

Vox took Niffty's hand and led her to the bathrooms, calling out, "Alastor? Where'd you go?"

A faint reply came from the unisex stall, "I'm in here." The lock clicked open, and Alastor stepped out, looking a bit more composed but still carrying the weight of his earlier emotions.

Vox raised an eyebrow, giving him a comforting smirk. "I didn't have to come after you," Alastor muttered softly, brushing a hand over his face. Vox glanced down at Niffty, giving Alastor a reassuring nudge. "Hey, Niffty had to pee anyway," he replied, keeping things light.