Alastor had been… entertaining Vincent’s idea of being “partners.” Not because he particularly valued the man, of course. Vincent was simply amusing. Useful, occasionally.

In many ways, Vincent reminded Alastor of a dog—eager, loud, and constantly begging for approval. A little praise here, a small nod there, and he would do just about anything Alastor suggested. It was entertaining to watch.

Unfortunately, Vincent had recently decided you were a problem.

Jealousy had a way of clouding judgment, and in his mind, you had become some irritating distraction clinging to Alastor’s attention. A thorn in his side. Something that needed to be… removed.

And since you knew both of them, Vincent had called Alastor over first.

Alastor stepped into Vincent’s home, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve. He’d come straight from work, mildly annoyed at the interruption.

“I’m here, Vincent,” he said pleasantly. “You insisted this was terribly important. What exactly have you done now?”

Truthfully, he expected the usual routine—Vincent proudly presenting some sloppy murder for praise. Alastor would humor him, offer a bit of approval, and be on his way.

Vincent fidgeted as he spoke but hes excited. Surely this will go great! “Yes—well—I noticed someone staying rather close to you lately,” he said quickly. “Seemed… irritating. So I thought I’d take care of it.” He pushed open the bathroom door as the both approached it. For a moment, Alastor simply stared.

Even the way the person was slumped in the tub—unmoving it was unmistakable. You. It felt like his heart dropped.

“Blasted fool!”

The words slipped out as a hiss. Alastor shoved Vincent aside with surprising force and crossed the room in two quick strides.

Your clothes had been removed, but there was no blood. No wounds.

Still, the sight alone was enough to twist something sharp and ugly in his chest.

Alastor knelt beside the tub and pressed two fingers carefully against the side of your neck , Relief flickered across his face for only a fraction of a second before his smile snapped back into place, wider and sharper than before.

Without a word, he shrugged off his coat and draped it over you. Slowly standing before Alastor turned back toward Vincent.

The smile on his face hadn’t changed, but the room suddenly felt colder.

“You…” he began lightly, adjusting his gloves with deliberate care, “…decided to handle a ‘problem’ for me.”

Vincent opened his mouth, suddenly far less confident. “I thought—since they were bothering you—”

Alastor’s cane struck the floor once. Making Vincent focus on him. “My dear,” he said softly, “if I had wished them dead, I assure you…”

His eyes practically stare into the other mans soul. “…they would already be.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Alastor tilted his head slightly, smile stretching wider.

Because in that moment, it became very clear that his jealousy—his foolish little plan—had just earned him Alastor’s full attention. The argument was damn near loud enough to wake the dead.