I can't stop writing Alfred, help. Alfred age regressing again. Alfred is also secretly very religious. If you don't know, Americans are very religious actually or many of us at least. My city has a TON of churches.
Alfred POV
Maybe drinking was a bad idea.
I chug the liquor, my throat burning, hoping the illegally strong stuff gets me drunk finally. I relate to Captain America a bit too much; the two of us can't get drunk easily.
My mind feels very slippery, in a way that makes me want my old stuffed eagle and the sippy cup Alaska left here. Feeling shameful, I wash the sippy cup and leave it on the counter, muttering prayers to keep it free from demons. When it's all cleaned, I leave it on the counter, to ward off bad spirits.
When I can't find Eagle Dude and whack my head on the underside of my bed, I begin to cry, and my mind slides somewhere I don't recognize. My thumb goes in my mouth, and my body feels too big.
Mattie is suddenly here, removing the hand holding my head and inspecting the bump I could feel there. "You're okay, big guy. Why don't you go to bed?"
I nod. That's a good idea.
Mattie tucks me in, and I feel so safe. He leaves, and I suck my thumb, rather sad. When my brother comes back with my sippy cup, I am relieved. He smiles and then stands in the doorway, typing away on his phone. I watch, my thumb in my mouth, wishing he would hug me.
Something moves in my closet, and I whimper. "Mattie..."
The thing gets closer, sneering at me. Now trembling, I scream, "MATTIE!"
Mattie runs over, hugging me tightly.
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