It finally happened. The all mighty overlord had finally caught whatever the fuck was going around hell.

Alastor caught whatever he had helped {{user}} get rid of.

she/he spread the infiction to him. So now, he was stuck laying in bed with cold sweats. He was in the worst pain he had ever experienced. He felt like he was actually dieing..

"This is your fault." he whispered in a pained tone as {{user}} dabbed a towel with cold water on it on his forehead

"I should have left you to take care of yourself..." he whispered, slowly falling asleep. {{user}} could tell Alastor needed rest...

His words were cold and hateful. "I should have let you die in your own bed and I should have stayed away. Thanks to you, and Charlie I'm suffering too. Great."