I'll Be Seeing You {RadioDust}

Chapter 23

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Thursday, February 10th, 1921
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Alastor stood watching as the streetcar left his view, eventually turning on his heels to return in the direction he'd come from to go home. His face was expressionless safe for his smile, not a peep leaving his lips when he eventually did return home, shoes off, and jacket up on the stand.

Whether his mother was home or not, Alastor had more pressing matters to attend to. Writing that letter to Anthony for example. He was tired, but he wanted to write this before he tried to sleep for the night.

Lucky for him, his mother was not home, but she would be along soon. Since Batallier's murder, things at the hospital had been rather hectic and all over the place. It seemed to have shocked the entire staff and put them into a panic. Well... some of the employees. The ones that were affected by him the most, all being women, saw it as more of a relief and heavy weight had been lifted from their shoulders.

Sat at his desk, paper below him, and a pen by his left side, Alastor clasped his hands together and stretched out his palms in front of him. There was so much he wanted to say, yet he worried that much of it wasn't important enough to go into a letter.

By the time he did start writing, every word, sentence, and paragraph just flowed and came naturally to him- he found himself so immersed in writing that he didn't hear his mother entering the house from downstairs, despite the unmistakable sound of the front door closing.

Amélie noticed Alastor's bedroom light was on along with his shoes just outside the door on the porch, so she knew he was home now. Taking his shoes and putting them just on the inside, she sighed and took her own off, putting them beside her son's.
It was near one o'clock in the morning so if Alastor was asleep, she would be willing to wait until the next morning to speak to him about the matters concerning the marks on his neck that she had spotted.

Gathering her skirt, Amélie made her way up the stairs and knocked on her son's bedroom door.
"Alastor? If you're still awake I would like to have a word with you."
She spoke, seeing the light still on from under the crack of his door.

Even as the knock at the door came, the man stayed silent. The pen he had pressed to the paper continued writing away, even despite his mother's words. Whether it was wrong to be ignoring his mother or not, Alastor had to get this letter done before he went to sleep. He would speak with his mother in the morning if she still so desired.

Amélie wasn't giving up so easily. She could hear the pen on paper on the other side of the door. She never did this in the past but opened the door anyway, seeing her son hard at work on something at his desk.
"Alastor. I'd like to get this conversation over with."
She stated firmly.
"Who gave you those marks on your neck?"

When the door opened instead of Alastor hearing his mother's footsteps echoing away, he was somewhat surprised. Especially by the question that followed.
But, he was in no mood to answer that right now, his train of thought was on the edge of being lost, and he was almost finished with part of the letter's draft. And so, whether it was a good idea or not, he ignored his mother, continuing on with writing, reaching across for more ink.

Amélie's jaw seemed to clench when she was met with silence. Now stepping into the room, she walked over to the desk and took his inkwell, putting the cork in it and holding it carefully in her hands.

"Alastor Jacques Levesque. I expect an answer. Now."
She repeated, looking down at her son. She was tempted to look at what he was writing but wouldn't go that far. She was already stepping over a few lines as it was.

Alastor paused, closing his eyes for a moment, and taking his breath as he watched his ink being taken away.
"Mama, can you not see I am currently preoccupied? If you want to spend your time falsely accusing me of things, then you may do so tomorrow."
That was that. He understood that his mother was worried, but he knew there was nothing to be worried about. Now his mind had lost what thought he'd been on.

"Do not treat me as if I haven't any idea of what caused those. You're fooling no one with this nonsense."
She continued as she carefully lowered the collar of Alastor's shirt with one hand, exposing more of the marks.
"I know very well those are not bruises nor mosquito bites. Who did you engage with?"

Alastor flinched away slightly as his mother lowered his collar, the man lightly batting his the woman's hand away.
"Mother, I've said it once. I am preoccupied, please may this discussion continue tomorrow. I am not going to listen to your absurd accusations tonight."
He challenged, looking up into his mother's eyes and raising his chin.

Amélie wasn't going to back down. She knew that if they were going to dismiss this now, they weren't going to end up talking about it at all. Alastor would be starting work again soon and her hours hadn't gotten any better, so it would be back to rarely seeing each other long enough to get a mere hello in.

"Was it Maddie?"
She pressed.

Alastor immediately found himself scoffing at that, shaking his head as he looked away from his mother, opening a drawer that was in the desk and pulling out another inkwell before pulling the cork.
"No."
Was all he curtly said, dipping his pen back into the ink and continuing to write in silence.

Amélie shook her head and put the inkwell she had taken back down onto the desk.
"You're so much like your father. I could never get through to him either. Always avoiding topics that inconvenience you and running around like a foolish animal. It astounds me."
She said with great irritation as she headed for the door of his bedroom again so she could change and go to bed. It was clear she wasn't getting anything out of him and things were getting out of hand.

As soon as his father was brought up, Alastor once again paused, his pen hovering above the paper in his grip that tightened slightly at her words.

"If you see more than simply a facial resemblance between that man and me, then you are greatly mistaken."
Alastor spoke calmly, yet the grip he had on his pen spoke otherwise.
"If I was anything like him, you would have killed me already, wouldn't you?"
And just like that, he was facing his mother again, looking at the back of her as she stood by his door.

That, perhaps, might have been a step too far on her part. She stood in the doorway, staring straight ahead as she processed.

Finally giving a sigh, she turned again to face her son.
"All I wanted were a few simple answers from you. Why is that so difficult? Why is that so much to ask?"

Alastor watched as she turned around, his eyes narrowed slightly.
"It is an improper thing for me to be discussing, but I can assure you that nothing bad will come from it. Now, if you don't mind, I have to continue writing this letter to Anthony. He leaves early tomorrow."

Amélie took a breath, looking her son over.
"I know you're not afraid of putting a woman in her place and I know you have more self-control. I expected more of you."
She replied, raising her chin slightly.
"Give Anthony my best, assuming you're seeing him off."
She then stepped out and closed the door behind her.

That didn't go as planned but really, she should have expected it. Alastor always kept to himself and never talked about anything personal with her.
She supposed she was to blame for that; working all the time and having her son off with others. There was no trust there because she wasn't in his life while he was growing up.
Another thing she couldn't believe was the fact that she'd brought up her late husband, going as far as comparing Alastor to that disgrace of a man.

Shaking her head at her own hot-headed stupidity, Amélie cleaned up, got changed, and went to bed.

Nothing more was said on Alastor's part, the man simply returning to his writing once his mother had said her scolding words and left his room, moving on to the final letter.
He was exhausted, so much so that just as he was signing his name at the end of the letter, with his head falling to rest upon his desk, he fell asleep.