Chapter Text
Alastor had secrets the same as anyone else, however, he kept his well and truly buried. They were so buried that not even a palaeontologist would be able to find them. Which was how he liked it. Alastor didn't want anyone prying into his past or his family, regardless of who they were. But he was also aware that he couldn't always get what he wanted and that sometimes things went tits up without help. So one day when he found everyone gathered in the lobby staring at a letter from Heaven he was curious, but his curiosity turned to horror when he realised that it was his name on the front of it. He didn't even hesitate to burn the letter. How dare they. They had no right to contact him after all these years; they wanted nothing to do with him when he had been living on Earth, and he wanted nothing to do with them. Not now. He was settled in Hell and had no intentions of leaving it, especially not for some pompous idiots who seemed to think they knew better than everyone else.
"Al? What was that about?" The urge to grind his teeth was strong, and while he had no desire to answer Charlie's question,n he knew that he would need to give them something. Otherwise, they would keep prodding and poking until they got the answers that they wanted and he didn't want that.
"I have no idea what you mean, my deer, but if I would have to take a guess, I would say that someone in Heaven wants to reach me! I have no idea why!" The lie fell from his lips easy enough; he had spent his entire life lying about who and what he was and he doubted that it was going to change. He wanted nothing to do with Heaven, and he never would; not even his mother could change his mind. But he should have known that Heaven wouldn't give up so easily.
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A month later, a portal from Heaven opened up in the hotel lobby, Charlie had invited the sins and the other Overlords to see the work that she was doing. Now that they knew that it was possible for sinners to be redeemed, Charlie was eager to get as many demons on board as possible. This meant that everyone noticed the portal opening, and more than one of them reached for their weapons in case it was another attack. But Alastor had a sinking feeling in his chest.
"Alastor!" His mother stepped out of the portal, and for a moment, he wanted to tear her to shreds. it would be far kinder for him to kill her than have the citizens of Hell find out about her. He took a step away from her when she went to hug him he ignored the look of pain on her face. A group of angels appeared behind her, and he wondered if they were here to try and strong-arm him into going to Heaven. He sincerely hoped that they would be able to deal with the consequences if that was the case.
"So this is my grandson." Alastor found himself staring up at an angel with jet-black hair and ice-blue eyes. Six massive white wings were behind him, and Alastor knew without a doubt that this was Uriel.
"Uriel, I presume, I would say that it is a pleasure, but that would be a lie." He could feel the confusion and uncertainty coming from the inhabitants of the hotel, just as he could feel the barely restrained rage coming from the Sins. He could feel the fear coming from the other Overlords now that they were faced with angels that were far stronger than anything they had faced before. Alastor took a step away from the angels, he had no intention of letting any of them touch him.
"We are here to take you home, to Heaven with us." Red eyes moved to the youngest angel of the group; she reminded him of Charlie in a way, and if he remembered correctly, then her name would be Emily.
"I think not. I am no angel, and nor will I ever be." He could feel his hidden wings bristle in annoyance. How dare they think that they are his family, that they can demand anything from him.
"Alastor, baby." His eyes drifted to his mother and wondered what tale had been spun to get her on board. She had to have known that he wouldn't fall for this, that he wouldn't want to be part of the so-called family.
"No." Before he had a chance to do anything, Uriel rushed forward and grabbed him on his shoulders, a screech of feedback left him as six blood-red wings burst from his back for everyone to view. Wings that were mangled, broken and missing giant patches of feathers. Alastor snarled and shoved the shocked Uriel off him. His eyes were radio dials as he looked at the group; he could feel his joints beginning to snap and elongate as he struggled to control the urge to shift and change.
He could hear the gasps of shock as everyone looked at his wings. He hated it just as much as he hated having his secrets revealed. Without warning, thick black tentacles sprouted from the ground and wrapped around his wings, he didn't buckle under the pain as his tentacles began to violently pull his wings off. He could feel the skin stretching and tearing as blood began to gush down his back; his nerves were on fire as the bones in the wings were shattered and broken. Not a sound of pain left his lips as, with one final, vicious pull, a wing was torn off his back.
The blood-red wing was tossed in front of Uriel, but Alastor didn't stop there. One by one, his wings were torn off his back, and he could feel the air touching the nerves as he fought to stay conscious; he had no intention of showing any of these, being just how much pain he was in. One by one, the wings were tossed in front of Uriel and the other angels.
"There, now you have something that belonged to me. You can leave now." He didn't wait for a response as he disappeared into the shadows and into his room. He was barely able to keep himself conscious as his shadow tended to the gaping wounds his his back.
That probably hadn't been the smartest thing he had ever done.