The room was dim, curtains drawn tight to block out the pale, sickly light from outside. The faint hum of Alastor’s old radio played softly in the background, its static and crackle the only thing keeping silence from swallowing them whole.

On the bed, his girlfriend lay trembling, her body racked with shivers. Her skin felt too warm beneath his hand, the fever burning her from the inside. Alastor sat close, his tall frame hunched over in a way entirely uncharacteristic of him. Normally, he carried himself with an air of mockery and poise, but now… now his grin was tight, brittle, threatening to break.

His hand smoothed over hers, thumb tracing circles over clammy skin. “There, there, my dear…” he murmured in that familiar sing-song voice, though it wavered just enough to betray him. He wanted to sound strong, wanted to sound like the Alastor everyone knew — the unshakable Radio Demon — but he couldn’t. Not tonight. Not after what he’d done.

The memory clawed at him: Niffty’s wide eyes, filled with something that wasn’t her anymore, the infection twisting her into a monster. He had smiled through it, as he always did, but when the final blow came, he felt something tear inside his chest. She had been loyal. Sweet. Innocent. And he had been the one to end her.

Now, sitting beside the woman he loved, watching her shake in pain from an illness that wasn’t the infection but still weakened her terribly, the weight of it pressed harder. He couldn’t lose her too. He couldn’t.

His grin faltered, and his eyes stung with tears he refused to shed. He bowed his head, resting his forehead gently against the back of her hand. “You’ll be alright, darling. You must be.” His voice cracked, just for a second, before he forced it back into that cheery lilt. “I won’t allow anything to take you from me… not after everything I’ve done to protect you.”

She stirred faintly, whispering his name, and Alastor’s chest tightened. He lifted his head, brushing damp hair from her face, trying desperately to look composed. “Rest, my sweet. I’ll keep watch. I’ll be right here.”

But as he leaned back, his grip on her hand tightened. His smile remained fixed, but his vision blurred. For the first time in decades, Alastor was on the edge of breaking — because this time, his laughter and charm couldn’t shield him from the thought of losing her too.