Demons and Magic

CHAPTER 16: That’s a weakness.

“But I love her!” Jackson wailed as Nathan gave him a cup of hot chocolate, inserting a piece of napkin in his flailing hands. “She could’ve just told me that she was leaving! She didn’t have to break my heart. We could’ve worked something out even if it’s just long distance. I don’t think—”

“Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Alastair deadpanned and plopped on top of her bed. “You don’t think.”

Nathan shot her a menacing look and Jackson wailed even louder, tears streaming down his face continuously that Alastair now seriously suspects that he may be the sole reason for the clogged drainage outside.

“Jackson, listen to me,” Nathan said in an attempt to make him shut up before Alastair even tosses something into his open mouth. “Sam loves you, okay? She just wants to save you from the heartbreak in case she can never come back.”

“But I can wait!”

“No, you don’t understand—”

“To be fair, he doesn’t understand most things,” Alastair quipped again, and Nathan threw a pillow at her to which she easily dodged.

“Don’t listen to her, okay?” he said and blocked Jackson’s view of Alastair, his irritation towards the white-haired demon slowly rising. “Sam loves you, but maybe — just maybe — she thinks that it’s impossible for the both of you to keep up. I mean, didn’t she say that her parents originally wanted for her to go to Princeton but since she didn’t get the scholarship … look, she’s gonna be aiming for a scholarship at an Ivy League school next year, isn’t she?”

Jackson nodded and blew his nose on a piece of tissue, throwing it on top of the pile that had accumulated in the center of the room.

Nathan nodded encouragingly. “Well, that’s it then. She’s gonna need to focus so she can’t afford any more distractions. So, it really is not about whether she loves you or not—”

“It’s whether you are a distraction,” Alastair finished and popped a piece of berry into her mouth. “Which you probably are.”

Jackson cried again and started sobbing like a baboon, only making things worse. Nathan just sighed and gave Alastair a warning look to which she replied with half a smile and a shrug.

“You know what, Alastair? If you’re not gonna help, you might as well just keep silent. Or get lost. Whichever one works.”

“Eh.” She dismissed him with a wave and placed a hand behind her head, lying back to stare at the empty ceiling. “At least I know what can help him.”

Jackson paused, his eyes red from crying the entire day, and turned to Alastair with the hopes of getting a decent answer. “What?”

Alastair grinned maniacally. “Girls.”

“Girls?”

“Girls.”

“What about girls?” he asked, and Alastair pushed herself up on the bed.

“If your problem is a girl, then most probably, the solution is also a girl. Girls, if you prefer plural.”

“Oh, God,” Nathan sighed and heaved himself up from sitting too long down on the floor. “Al, come on. You’re going out.”

“What? No!”

“Yes, you are. Out, now. Stop putting ridiculous things inside my best friend’s head. You’re a bad influence.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” Nathan pulled open the door and gestured for her to exit the premises before he even starts throwing her out the window. “Now, go.”

“But it’s cold.”

“I don’t care.”

“Oh, come on. This is just childish.”

“Well, what do you expect? I’m dealing with a child.”

Alastair just rolled her eyes and stomped out of the room and into the hallway with heavy steps, her face scrunched up into a frown as she fixed her eyes on him.

“You’re gonna pay for this,” she muttered before he had even closed the door, and Nathan smiled sarcastically at her.

“Do you want that in cash or in check?”

···

Castiel turned towards the door the moment he heard someone knocking on it.

‘It is hard being human,’ he thought. Because unlike before, going from places to places would require for him to walk. And walking takes too much time and energy. Plus it doesn’t help that the human body is not quite capable of hovering which, in his opinion, is a huge downgrade.

Why, really, had God created such creatures? Alastair had been wondering the same.

“Hello, my golden friend,” Alastair said the moment Castiel opened the door, and he immediately slammed it back close again.

Unfortunately for him, Alastair was pretty agile and had caught the door with one foot.

“Would you mind not doing that?” she said through the small gap she had made on the door. “That seems kinda rude, don’t you think?”

Castiel rolled his eyes from his side of the door and tried putting his entire weight on closing it shut. Again, unfortunately for him, Alastair was stronger than she looks.

“Oh, come off it, you mewling scum. Just open the damn door.”

“No! What do you want?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to see you.”

“That’s creepy!”

Alastair laughed and for a split second, Castiel’s grip on the door loosened. “Open the door, little angel,” she said in a sing-song voice and shivers ran down Castiel’s spine.

“Don’t do that again. You sound really scary.”

“That’s because I am.” And with one small push of her hands, the door burst open, sending him rolling down the floor. “See? It’s not even that hard, is it, now?”

Castiel dusted himself up and cleared his throat, acting like nothing had happened and that his embarrassment does not exist. “‘Course,” he replied briefly and started dusting the empty shelves with his fingers. “So … what are you doing here?”

“Don’t you have a bed?” she asked as she gave the room a small scan, distaste evident in her pallid face.

“Well, isn’t that obvious?” he snapped. “You know, I’m glad that your skull is really strong. Because after the brain power used to make such a brilliant observation, we need to protect whatever neurons you have left.”

“For an angel as old as you, I’m surprised that you’ve acquainted yourself with words that are used by the modernists who thinks that you’re nothing but a myth.”

“No. I’m surprised. You’re astonished.”

“OMG, dears, is everything alright here?” Mrs. Pratchett came barreling down the hallway and peered at them through the open door.

“Yeah, I think so. Why? Is anything wrong?”

“I thought the both of you were being held at gunpoint.”

“Oh, no. That was just Castiel breathing.”

Mrs. Pratchett chuckled at the joke and scanned the room one more time to make sure that the gunner didn’t just force them to say that. After all, with the storm going on, Mrs. Pratchett’s nerves had started to act up again.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. But please, no more fighting or you’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Pratchett,” Alastair said and made a move to close the door. “You still have twenty two more years to live. Trust me, I checked.”

And with a good shove at the door, she turned to Castiel with a wide smile.

“Now, where were we?”

“I believe you were just about to leave?”

“Nonsense,” she said and clicked her fingers, to which a bed appeared out of thin air. “I’m here to stay.”

Castiel just sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose, aware that Alastair was still smiling like the lunatic that she is. “I’ve already warned you about using magic in the mortal realm, haven’t I? The vengeful souls can smell power.”

“Apparently, it smells like almonds and vanilla, too. Must be a delight for them, then.”

“Will you stop joking?”

“Oh no. I’m not joking. This is called jesting.”

“Which means exactly the same thing.”

“Ooh. Looks like someone’s been reading the dictionary.”

Castiel gritted his teeth and attempted to pull Alastair by the arm but she just slapped his hands away. “You see, this! This is the reason why a lot of people wants you tied up in the deepest pits of hell! You have an exceptional talent at making people wish they were dead.”

Alastair just laughed at his face. “Well, first of all, that’s kinky. And second of all, the talent is God-given, I’m afraid. Let’s see you oppose to that.”

“You’re annoying.”

“And you smell like the dead.”

Castiel looked offended. “I don’t smell like the dead!”

“You should take a sniff sometime. Where the hell did you get that body anyway?”

He wanted to answer something witty, or at the very least, something that could protect his bruised ego at this point, but his mind had went blank.

He cleared his throat again and straightened up to appear taller than he actually is. “I restored this body. It was badly mangled.”

“Ah. So you found a corpse?”

“Yes. But I did ask him for his permission first. He was very sad. He said that the person who ordered for his murder was the love of his life. Quite tragic, really,” he said, his voice rising an octave, and started fidgeting with his nails.

Alastair rolled her eyes. “Don’t you dare cry on me, you emotional dingbat. I have no time for your drama right now.”

“No, it’s just … ” A single tear fell from the side of his eyes and he started sobbing loudly as he sat beside Alastair, “ … it’s just sad, don’t you think? Love shouldn’t hurt that much, should it? I mean … I feel so sorry for him. He said that her betrayal hurts more than the huge boulder that was hurled towards his car.”

“No, I’m pretty sure that the boulder hurts more. I mean, that’s a boulder, bro. Nothing hurts more than that.”

Castiel started crying for real now and leaned towards her but she had already stood up, her face reflecting the awkwardness that they had both built inside the empty room.

“Okay, clearly, you need some help.”

Castiel sniffed and wiped his cheeks with the sleeves of his silk robes. “Crying is good for the soul.”

“You have no soul.”

“I think it’s the same. It makes you feel lighter to just cry and let it all go, you know?”

Alastair scoffed at him and crossed her arms, not at the least convinced.

“Tell me, Alastair. When was the last time you cried?”

She just shrugged. “Dunno. Probably when I was born and the doctor slapped my butt? Which is sus if you ask me, by the way.”

Castiel just stared at her with a look that says she might’ve gone bonkers or something. “There’s a doctor in Hell?”

“Oh, yeah, lots. After all, a good lot of them talks s**t about their patients during operations, don’t they?”

“What?” Now, Castiel just looked confused.

Alastair just laughed at his reaction. “Seriously, though. There must be something wrong with the storm. It makes you all cry.”

“You’re just jealous that you can’t cry.”

“That’s a weakness.”