Chapter Text
It's well known throughout hell that Alastor was a mama's boy. His dear Maman was his favourite person in the world and he cherishes all his memories of her.
A well known fact at the hotel was how much he loves to make his mother recipes in her memory. Whether that be his favourite, her Jambalaya, or her beignets, Alastor remembered them all.
What none of the hotel residents knew of however, was the situations in which he and his mother survived in. Work was hard to come by in the 1920s as a Creole woman and a mixed race man. So earning money to put food on the table wasn't always possible. Especially as the years went on.
By the year of his death, Alastor found himself struggling in life. Malnourished and almost ill. That's how he got caught.
He heard the dogs coming for him, yet he was too weak to run away, his vision wavering.
He tripped.
It was all over.
Alastor awoke with a start in a cold sweat, his heart pounding.
He was safe in his room at the hotel. Glancing at the clock it was 6:30. Not too early to consider getting up.
He got himself dressed in his usual coat and suit before sitting himself at his vanity. One may judge him for owning such a thing but who could blame him when it reminded him so much of his Maman. And how else was he supposed to do his hair in the morning.
He stopped however when he saw the box laid out in front of him. It contained many white pots and boxes all with his name on them. His vitamin supplements.
You see, when one goes to heaven, all ailments in life are healed. But in hell they are only amplified. So when he first got to hell and he met Rosie she noticed how pale and almost sickly he seemed and forced him to go see her personal doctor. It was then he was told about his deficiencies.
So he was given supplements and told to change certain parts of his lifestyle. Surely now, 30 years later, he can stop taking the one thing that reminded him daily of how weak he was? Right?
So he didn't take them that morning. Nor the next.
Not for an entire month.
Alastor woke up at 7 am on the dot. Today was his and Rosie's fortnightly meet up. But as he awoke he noticed a deep feeling of nausea rising in his throat and he felt more tired than usual. As he stood up however his vision blacked about, he wobbled where he stood and his knees gave out below him, his head pounding.
Not again. He thought he was over this. But in true Alastor fashion, the stubborn deer ignored it and got himself ready to head to Cannibal Town. Surely if he ignored it, it would go away?
However, the longer he was awake and the more he moved around, the more he noticed the weak tremble in his hands and the pounding in his head.
He ignored it.
The walk to Cannibal Town only seemed to make everything worse. He was shaky, his legs felt like they were about to give out again from underneath him, he was dizzy and the nausea from earlier came back tenfold.
Checking that no one was watching, Alastor turned down an alleyway and sat down against the wall breathing heavily, wishing away the black spots at the edge of his vision.
Oh how much he regretted skipping his supplements now.
With a snap of his fingers, he found himself in an alleyway in Cannibal Town, not too far from Rosie's. The extra effect of using his magic however wore him out even more and his nausea spiked.
He threw up the crackers he managed to force down earlier that morning and he slumped against the wall, trying to slow down his breathing and remain conscious.
He was fine. He could do this. Nearly at Rosie's.
After composing himself for a minute, Alastor pushed himself up shakily with his staff and the wall to assist him before stumbling around the corner towards Rosie's.
He knocked on the door, a tense smile on his face. He couldn't let her know he'd been missing his supplements.
"Alasta my deer friend!" Rosie chuckled, answering the door. "How are you, my fine-"
She stopped, taking a minute to look at the overlord in front of her.
He was visibly shaking where he stood, face pale and leaning on his cane heavily. His chest was heaving and his smile was more of a grimace.
"Oh my poor deer, what's happened? Come in, come in, sit yourself down" she fussed grabbing his arm and leading him to the closest sofa. He all but collapsed into it, breathing heavily.
"Are you injured?" A shake of the head.
"Sick?" Another shake of the head.
"Have you been taking your supplements?" Alastor froze. That gave Rosie all the answers she needed. "Hon, no! Why did you stop? You know you need them"
Rosie swiftly walked to the kitchen and found a tub of supplements in her medicine cupboard, after all, it's better to be prepared for moments like this.
She also grabbed a painkiller and prepared a glass of water before walking back in the room to find alastor with his face in his hands.
"Here, pumpkin. Take these. It'll help"
Alastor shakily grabbed the pills and swallowed them down as Rosie rubbed his back. She disappeared into the kitchen again and returned with a slice of cake. Alastor's nose wrinkled.
"Look, I know you're not a fan of all things sweet but raising your blood sugar will help you"
So she sat next to him, berating him about not taking his supplements as she fed him the cake.
"I'm sorry..." he whispered, not making eye contact. He truly hadn't meant to worry her. Yet Rosie smiled fondly at the man before her.
It wasn't how they planned to spend their day but it wasn't the worst. After all, Rosie was his saviour in these times when his mind was too stubborn to care for himself and knowing she was the only one that got to see this side of the stubborn overlord made her feel cherished.
And their usual tea drinking gossip session ended with Alastor laying on Rosie's lap as she scratched his ears to soothe him to sleep.