Chapter Text
"WHO'S EXCITED?!"
"Scream like that again and I'm turning this car around."
"Oh, don't be such a sourpuss, Husker, let her have her fun! I'm very excited, my dear, it's not often one sets out to prove the existence of cryptozoological creatures."
Hank sighed, and by the twitch of his fingers on the wheel, Alastor could tell he desperately wanted to cover his face, maybe even scream. "And what makes you think we'll be the one's to do that?" He said instead, "If all these self proclaimed experts can't find the damn thing?"
"They're taking it too seriously." Alastor responded breezily, "Good things come to those who have already accepted that these things aren't real and were just looking for an excuse to have a weekend away."
"I don't think that's how the saying goes." Hank deadpanned.
Alastor shrugged, "In any case, we're almost there. Look." He gestured airily to the approaching sign indicating they were about to arrive in Point Pleasant, West Virginia.
Penny squealed, bouncing in her seat, "This is going to be so much fun!"
"The second one of you starts digging around in a turd claiming it to be mothman shit, I'm checking you both into the nuthouse and forgetting we ever met."
-
"This is amazing!"
"This is horrifying."
"You mean you don't want to sleep with several spectacular renditions of mothman watching over you?"
Hank glared at Alastor as the man swept past, dropping his bags in the corner with a flourish.
Their motel room was almost 100% mothman themed, with various art prints covering the walls, a floor lamp in one corner with a shade the shape of its head, eyes casting an eerie red glow, and several small ornaments adorning the windowsill and desk.
Penny stepped around Hank, still frozen in the doorway, "I hope my own room is just as good as this." She picked up one of the tiny mothmen on the desk, a chibi-like figure, simple and adorable, "Do you think they'll notice if any of these ornaments go missing?"
Alastor shrugged, "Well it's not like they can't easily replace them, klepto to your heart's content, my friend!"
Penny gave an ominous giggle, stuffing the figure into her pocket.
The action had Hank rolling his eyes, "Don't get too carried away, we don't want this trip to be over before it's even begun." He put a hand on her back and steered her towards the door, "Go put your stuff down so we can eat."
She perked up at that, giving a wave before bouncing off.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Hank whirled around, fixed Alastor with a steely gaze, "Tell me exactly how you convinced your ex to loan you all of his best tech for this trip, and don't tell me you're back together."
Clever. It seemed Hank had caught onto his plan of sticking to Penny so he could avoid having this exact conversation.
"Oh, please, that ship has sailed." Alastor scoffed, breaking eye contact by returning his attention to his suit case, going for nonchalance. He unzipped it and began to sort through the clothes, only wanting to avoid the judgemental glare and not making any effort to actually unpack.
"Which is exactly what you said the last time. And the time before that, and the time before that-"
"Well this time its permanent. The ship sank and can't return to port, even if it wanted to." Alastor interrupted with finality, "Which it doesn't, in case that wasn't clear. I'll return his equipment on Monday and then we'll never speak again."
Hank grunted, clearly not believing the speech, "Just- tell me you didn't do or say anything stupid. I never trusted Vincent and you play around with him too much- do not-"
A smack echoed through the room as Alastor's attempt to pinch his cheek was successfully thwarted.
The man carried on, uneffected, "Don't worry, Husker! I have it all under control. I promise." He slapped on the biggest grin he could muster, corners of his mouth aching with the effort. He didn't actually intend to return anything, hoping to dump it out on the highway on their way home as one final act of petty revenge, but poor Hank didn't need to know that.
Hank clearly wanted to push, but he sighed, dragged a hand down his face. "Are you okay?" He asked instead.
What a great new angle!
"It's only seven years of my life down the drain and now I'm living by myself again for the first time in over a decade, but I'm just dandy, old chum, thanks for the concern!"
"You're a real ass, you know that?"
The smile twitched, widened, "As you so diligenty remind me every chance you get, is this interrogation over?"
"Yeah, it's over, prick."
Taking pity, Alastor enveloped the other man in an exaggerated hug, squeezing him tightly and knocking his glasses askew in the process, "Your concern is touching, but unwarranted, really, I'm fine!"
Hank gave his back a firm pat, before shoving him off with mock disgust. The barely there smile gave him away, "You better be."
It was then that Penny returned, letting herself in with the spare key she'd requested. "Lunchtime!" She announced, "I want to try that mothman cookie so bad!"
"Lead the way!" Alastor told her, following at her heels. He turned back, winked at Hank, "Make sure you've got your wallet, you'll be paying."
-
Their attempt to find a place to eat was waylaid several times by Penny bouncing around from store front to store front, obsessing over the various pieces of mothman merch displayed in the windows. She was placated with promises that they would come back right after. They had all day, after all, their real plans needing nightfall to come to fruition.
An hour later, their lunch was finished and Penny was let off her leash.
The museum was a must, though Penny already knew everything there was to know, and had found many an opportunity to regurgitate that information to the other two. Most recently at lunch, ensuring it was fresh in their minds for their later hunt.
Next up were the merch stores, where Penny loaded up bags upon bags. Even Hank and Alastor couldn't resist grabbing a few things.
Their exploration ended with them at the infamous mothman statue, with its gleaming silver body and intimidating red eyes.
"It's pretty ugly." Hank commented, arms crossed as he stared up at it.
"I know, they didn't do him justice!" Penny agreed with a whine, "The real mothman has to be cuter."
"I think he's rather handsome!" Alastor chipped in, circling the statue, "Those chiselled abs... and what an ass!" He announced, indicating the artfully crafted metal cheeks.
"Hey, he could be your rebound!"
Alastor laughed at that, "Oh, I certainly wouldn't complain. He looks like he has better moves than Vincent."
Penny appraised the ass before them, gave it a tentative pat, "Maybe we should kiss it for good luck?"
The back of her shirt was grabbed firmly, yanking her back before she could follow through with the suggestion, "Shove a dollar in his crack like a normal person."
"Oh, great idea! Both of you give me a dollar." Penny collected the notes from her friends, and carefully tucked them into the mothman statue's butt crack, "To a successful hunt!"
-
The trio made one last stop at the Silver Bridge memorial, leaving a bouquet of flowers and allowing a moment of silence, before they headed back to the hotel. They rested their feet from the hours of walking, unpacked their shopping, and consumed snacks they'd bought on the way to keep up their energy levels.
Penny insisted they should wear the new shirts they'd bought, not taking no for an answer as she shut herself in the bathroom to change. She emerged in a black shirt with a cute design of Mothman in front of a rainbow and the text 'I believe in YOU!'.
Hank's simply said 'The Mothman stole my catalytic converter in Point Pleasant, West Virginia', and Alastor hadn't needed much convincing to swap out his more horror themed shirt for one that said 'Mothman is real and he's my girlfriend'.
"The Mothman is going to take one look at these ridiculous getups and turn tail. Or eat us."
"Or he'll be so excited to meet such big fans that he'll sign autographs and let us take all the pictures we want!"
-
The drive out to the woods was quick and uneventful, mostly silent as Hank navigated and Penny was incapable of doing more than letting out squeals of excitement. Once parked, she was the first out, all but skipping around the car to impatiently wait for Hank to pop the trunk.
"Right, let's see what we're working with..." Hank muttered under his breath.
Alastor peered over his shoulder, "The latest in modern tech, I presume. We should all be very careful with it and make absolutely sure we don't break or lose anything. Or fill it with mud. Or let the Mothman take a bite out of it... Now that I think about it, he is said to mess with technology, I'm sure we'll know he's near if anything spontaneously catches fire."
"I ain't dealing with Vincent if any of that happens." Hank grumbled, elbowing Alastor out of the way to regain some personal space, then reaching for the nearest box.
Inside were various handheld cameras, folded tripods, clip-on microphones, replacement batteries, powerbanks, various cords and more Alastor couldn't quite place.
Penny let out a low whistle, "Well, damn, if Vincent's good for anything, it's making sure we have everything we need to start a professional Youtube Channel- oh, we should do that! We'd go viral if we got high quality footage of mothman!"
"We'd go viral because of my stunning personality, but I'll remind you both I don't do cameras. This is a face for radio." Alastor grinned, plucking out one of the smaller cameras and immediately losing his grip, watching it clatter to the floor. "Oops. Butter fingers." He picked it up and examined the new scuff that graced one corner.
Not bad. Could be worse. Damn.
He resolutely did not check to see what expression Hank was giving him.
"I hope the Mothman takes you."
Penny sighed dreamily, "I hope the Mothman takes me."
"Two for one deal, perfect. I'll enjoy my retirement."
"Oh, please, Husker, you're not that old yet! You've plenty of time to enjoy with your favourite people!"
"Being around you shortens my lifespan so I'd be lucky to even make it that long."
"Guuuyyys, come on! The sun's setting, we need to head out!" Penny pouted, shoving them both aside to pick through the box.
Hank was designated the equipment carrier, carefully filling up a backpack that he hauled onto his shoulder. Though it was a warm night, he also had jackets for everyone in case the weather changed. Penny carried their snacks and water, and Alastor got away with simply carrying one of the flashlights, though he didn't fight Penny clipping one of the microphones to his shirt collar.
"And we're off!"
Penny led the charge, marching into the trees like she was on her way to claim a lottery ticket's grand prize. Alastor was right behind her and Hank brought up the rear.
The forest was beautiful, the glow of the flashlight and moon not quite doing it justice. Alastor could easily see why such a creature would call this place its home for many decades.
It made him miss his own home, the picturesque bayous of New Orleans. The place he'd left to join Vincent in New York, thinking that's where he'd stay, where they'd grow old together. A stupid thought, considering their relationship had never actually been something one could describe as good. He loved Vincent, don't get him wrong, but God, he hated him more. They were both headstrong, intelligent, and had such clear plans for the future.
Unfortunately, they never quite aligned, and neither of them were willing to budge towards a compromise.
Ah, well. He wasn't missing much.
He had to tell himself that anyway.
Ahead of them, Penny was rambling on about mothman lore, various theories and hypotheticals. Besides him, Hank was giving him an odd look.
"What?"
"You look sad."
Alastor broadened his grin, "Nonsense! I'm having so much fun!"
"Yeah, I wasn't talking about the trip. Vincent?"
"I've talked about him enough for today- a lifetime actually, if you don't mind."
Hank held up a hand in surrender.
"Oh, look!" At the confused expression thrown his way, Alastor clarified, "You have something on your shirt, let me get it for you." He daintily plucked the microphone from Hank's shirt collar and dropped it to the floor. He bent to retrieve it and pretended to misstep in the same motion, crushing the device under his heel. "Oops."
Hank didn't remove his eyes from Alastor and never stopped walking as he fished a new microphone from the backpack.
He opened his mouth to comment on the move, but stopped, spotting something in the trees. On autopilot, he flicked his flashlight towards the area.
Saw nothing.
"Al?"
He turned his attention to Hank, wiggled his eyebrows, "Mothman."
"Ugh-"
"WHERE?!"
Penny's flashlight blinded them as she whirled around, eyes wide.
"False alarm, dear! Just some trees. Carry on!"
"Damn!" She stomped her foot and carried on without further question.
Hank pointedly stayed beside Alastor as they continued walking, and Alastor did his best to ignore him.
Eventually, he sighed, giving in, "I'm just... missing Louisiana. It's been far too long since I've been home."
Hank acknowledged the confession with a nod, lingering for moment before picking up the pace to catch up with Penny, "Hey, maybe we shouldn't offer to flash the mothman! Don't know what weirdos might actually be lurking around."
Alastor shook his head fondly, but hung back, taking his time as he strolled after them.
As odd as the three of them were as a trio, their personalities so intensely different, they were the closest friends Alastor had. He'd been independent for as long as he could remember, his mother had fallen ill when he was young and he realized he'd have to go on without her much sooner than he would have liked. He'd met Penny in a library, of all places, while he was looking for a cookbook and she was searching for some Japanese comic coincidentally also about cooking. She'd promptly adopted him five minutes into their conversation and introduced him to her friend Hank later that week. He was gruff, and perhaps drank just a little too much, but there was a heart under all of those steely layers and he'd quickly grown just as fond.
He'd met Vincent several years later and he didn't have nearly the same level of independence, he thrived with company, the more the better. He liked clubs and concerts, anything loud and crowded, as opposed to Alastor's quiet nights in with a decent home made meal and a record playing. One item on the extensive list of things they fought on.
"On second thought, perhaps we should have invited Vincent! He'd hate this, it would have been so entertaining to watch the city boy deal with the country-" He paused, staring ahead where his friends no longer were. He swung his head around, flashlight following the path and realized they were no where in sight.
Hm.
He trudged on. They couldn't have gotten far in the scant few minutes Alastor wasn't paying attention and it wasn't yet late enough that he felt the need to panic.
A snapping twig to Alastor's left went ignored. In a forest full of nocturnal animals going about their routines, it wasn't concerning.
The feeling of being followed however... he turned, lighting his way.
Found nothing.
He held his breath as he listened. Insects buzzed, small critters scurried through the underbrush, birds flapped their wings in the branches above, but nothing set off alarm bells.
"If one of you thought it would be funny to pull some kind of prank, I regret to inform you it is not amusing!" He called out into the dark, pushing his glasses up his nose as he strained to see past the flashlight's beam.
He could fight if he had to, if it really came down to it, he wasn't some damsel, but he didn't want to-
Someone grabbed him from behind. A large - furry? - hand covering his mouth, another circled his waist, and another- more than one person? Multiple people? Oh, Penny and Hank were real funny-
And then his feet were no longer on the ground, but neither was the other person, or people, because they were in the air, looking down at the trees. They flew silently, and when Alastor tried to get a look, craning his neck at an awkward angle, all he saw was black.
He clung tight, prayed the thing didn't drop him, and hoped that whatever fate awaited him wouldn't be worse.
Alastor only dared to fight back when they were safely sequestered within the thing's lair - a cave high up in a cliff face - lashing out with his legs and managing to sink his teeth into one of the creature's many hands.
"Puta!" It spat, dropping him to the ground and shoving him away.
The cave was somehow well lit and it allowed Alastor to finally get a proper look at his attacker.
And what he saw could only be described as a man shaped moth.
He was ten foot tall, and Alastor knew he was male because of the, albeit unsurprising, lack of clothes. He was covered in a shaggy coat of fur in lieu of an outfit, his torso a light blue-ish colour, white from the knees down, and a white patch along his crotch and inner thighs that resembled an upside down heart. His forearms, all four forearms, were black, ending in white fingers. A mane of white fur dotted with red hearts surrounded his neck, and his wings were just as red, with similar heart markings, and they were lined with black and white stripes. On his head were one long, feather-like antennae, white with black hearts, and another smaller one that looked withered and scarred.
Just like the tales, he had huge, blood red eyes that were now squinted angrily at Alastor.
"What the fuck was that for?!" He shrieked.
Alastor stared at him, offended. What the Hell kind of question was that? "You kidnapped me!"
"I'm saving you, ciervo pendejo!"
The insult took a moment to register in his brain, and when it finally clicked, it wasn't any more helpful to the situation, "Why are you Spanish?"
"I'm from Florida."
"What is happening?!" Alastor demanded, fingers threading through his hair and tugging in frustration, the pain of it grounding, but only somewhat.
"Okay!" The mothman let out an exasperated sigh and threw all four hands in the air, "Hi, my name's Valentino. You're Alastor, nice to meet you, and you were about to get into a horrible accident resulting in your death, so I saved you, because that's my job! And you're welcome for that, by the way!" His voice was high and thick with cynicism, "Are we on the same page?"
Alastor stared, struggling to process the revelation.
It must have been for longer than was polite, because the mothman heaved an impatient sigh. Before he could get out another word though, he was interrupted by a hysterical laugh, "This is amazing! I must have tripped over a root somewhere and banged my head, haha! I can't wait to tell Penny I met mothman, but only in my dreams! Oh, what a delight! What adventures shall we go on, hm?"
The cryptid attempted to speak again, but Alastor only guffawed louder, doubling over and clutching at his stomach with the force of it. It echoed off the walls, increasing the volume and creating the illusion of several Alastor's ganging up on the poor creature, equally confused at the situation.
"You know what? I'm just going to give you a minute to collect yourself." Mothman muttered and stalked further into the cave, leaving Alastor still chuckling with mirth.
Calming down required more effort than he appreciated, giggles escaping inbetween gasps for air. He wiped away tears that had gathered in the corners of his eyes, only to realize that they weren't stopping, his cheeks rapidly growing wet. His last cackle came out suspiciously like a sob. Fuck, things were supposed to start making sense after Vincent. Ending up in a cave with a creature that wasn't supposed to exist wasn't any less perplexing than wondering why he hated Vincent's touch, but craved it all the same.
Mothman saved him? From a so-called 'horrible accident'. What exactly did that entail, and why only him? Why not rescue Hank and Penny as well? If they were all together, how was Alastor the only one getting hurt- oh, but he'd gotten lost, hadn't he? Was that the reason mothman had stepped in? Would he have gotten so terribly lost in the forest that he'd never be found?
His head was starting to hurt from all of the questions and he pinched at the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stave off a full blown headache.
Old fashioned torches along the walls were lit with crackling fire, explaining how he'd been able to see so well, and Alastor stuck close to them as he ventured deeper into the cave in an effort to catch up with the mothman. Once he reached the end of what he now realized was simply the entranceway, he encountered a curtain made of carefully sewn together animal skins.
He parted them to find the mothman puttering around a surprisingly homely space.
Beyond the curtain, the cave opened up into an enormous round room, lit by glowing blue stones dotted along the walls and ceiling, with the largest in the centre, bathing everything in cool light. An alcove contained a roaring fire, and dotted around the area were various pieces of furniture crafted from wood and stone, draped in furs to offset the discomfort. Mothman memorabilia cluttered up the surfaces of shelves, much like the hotel room, and Alastor wondered how he'd obtained it all. He couldn't exactly walk into a store, and not just because of his immense size.
"This is... wow." He breathed, the only thing he could think to say to encapsulate what a truly ethereal sight he was seeing as he ventured further in.
Mothman blinked, "Thank you." And then sheepishly, "Sorry if it's a mess, I don't exactly get visitors. I'm not usually so hands on with my help, but well... well." He finished lamely, gesturing with a single hand. "Are you feeling better?"
Alastor came to a stop and shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot, arms crossed over his chest to resist the urge to hug himself, "If you don't mind, um... mothman?"
"Valentino. I already introduced myself."
"Right. Valentino." He corrected. Was he certain he wasn't passed out in some hospital bed? Or worse, already dead, and this was an interesting version of purgatory, not from any religion Alastor was familiar with. "I actually have some questions...?"
Mothman- Valentino nodded, "Of course. Make yourself at home, I'll answer what I can."
Tentatively, Alastor pulled out a chair tucked underneath a large table, both made of wood. It was designed for someone much taller, and seating himself in it was a struggle, but he managed and the expert craftsmanship held his weight with ease. The table was higher than he would have liked, the whole set up making him feel small, like a child spending time at the house of his mother's friend for the first time.
Valentino sat across from him, claws daintily picking at a rough spot upon the surface, as if he had any reason to be nervous about the situation. "Shoot." He encouraged.
Well, there was no point in beating around the bush, so he started off strong, "Why did you save me?"
"It wasn't your time." Was the answer. Quick. Confident.
Alastor frowned, "That doesn't make sense, if it wasn't my time, then surely I would have been fine?"
"You don't understand how any of this works and you won't. All you need to know is that if I hadn't stepped in, you would have died, and in the grand scheme of things that would not have turned out well. Hence this." Valentino pointed between them, "You're welcome."
"But I wasn't alone. What would have happened to my friends?"
"They would have been- they will be fine. You don't have to worry about them. It was only you that I needed to remove."
Remove. Said so casually, like he was a raccoon that kept getting trapped in someone's shed. It was a lot to take in, the information dizzying. The concept of him being so important that he'd, what? Throw off the balance of the universe if he died too early? Insane. Who exactly decided such a thing? What forces were at odds with each other?
Valentino must have sensed the impending questions, because he interrupted his thoughts with a sharp, "Next question, babe."
"It's Alastor, if you're going to insist on being on a first name basis." He growled with reproach, then paused, a thought hitting him, "But now that I mention it, you knew that already."
"Sure did."
"How?"
"Pass. It's part of the whole grand scheme of things, that's really not for humans to know."
Things were getting frustrating fast, the conversation going in circles, but Alastor pressed on, "What the Hell are you? And don't say pass." He added.
Valentino leaned back, fluff of his mane flaring briefly before settling again, "You people call me Mothman, Harbinger of Doom, or Death, and that works just fine. I'm not human, but that much is obvious."
Another question, not as urgent, niggled at the back of Alastor's mind, "...You said you were from Florida? How does that work?"
A shrug, "It's the first place I have memories of."
"So, how do you speak Spanish?"
"How do you speak English?"
"I learned from my mother."
"...I never had one of those."
Alastor wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light, or just not understanding how expressions worked on the inhuman face, but he swore that Valentino looked sad.
"So how do you?" He pressed, eager to move on.
Valentino stood, chair scraping across the bare cave floor, "I'm bored of questions, are you hungry?"
"That's a question."
The atmosphere shifted to something lighter when Valentino laughed, stretching out a paw to playfully kick him in the shin. "Don't be a brat. Answer it."
He was pretty hungry, having not eaten since before they left, "Penny was carrying our snacks..." Alastor responded, feeling a lot more comfortable now that a large portion of tension had melted away.
"I'll see what I can rustle up. I should have some human safe food laying around." Valentino explained, getting up to rummage through a series of carved indents in one section of the wall, filled with wooden containers, "If not I can hunt. You eat meat, right?"
"Love it." He replied absently, somewhat distracted.
If the statue in town had gotten one thing right, it was the perfectly sculpted ass.
"Good, because it'll be far easier to find a deer. Let's see..." More jars were grabbed, shaken, and ultimately put back down, "Fuck, I'm all empty. I'll have to go out." He turned, squinted at Alastor.
"What?"
"Stay put. Don't try to climb down the cliff, you will die."
Alastor wasn't planning to escape anyway, the mothman didn't seem dangerous, kidnapping and mystery aside, he actually seemed... fun. He was oddly enjoying himself, and didn't see the harm in hanging around to see his plan through to the end.
"Duly noted."
Valentino studied him closely, apprehensive, as if he wasn't entirely sure he could trust the other. Then he relented, "I won't be gone long. Hopefully. Feel free to amuse yourself, just don't break anything. Maybe try to get some sleep, you need that." He added as an afterthought. Then he left the cave, scooping up a handwoven basket on his way.
Alastor watched him go, waited until he couldn't hear footsteps any more before sliding from the chair. His first target to inspect was the assorted gathered trinkets. They were obviously things that people had once dropped in the surrounding forest, and possibly the town too, an impressive collection of keys and the attached keychains, some wallets - emptied of cash, cards and IDs - and food wrappers and cans Valentino had taken a particular liking to, cleaned and neatly preserved.
He had photos too, clippings taken from newspaper articles, about himself, of course, but also about other things. Accidental tragedies, man made atrocities, natural disasters, obituaries, and, rarely, a few entirely unrelated, but happy stories. People's accomplishments in the face of adversity, pets saving the day, wedding announcements and celebrations of couples' anniversaries, from one year all the way through to sixty years.
Alastor closed the drawer of the dresser he was rifling through and abandoned it at that, feeling much too like he was snooping through something deeply personal.
On a whim, he decided to head back to the main entrance of the cave, curiosity digging at him like an itch on the palm of your hand you just can't scratch.
It was, in fact, very high up on the cliff face, and though there was a slight angle, the drop was sheer. Broken bones would be guaranteed even if he managed to escape with his life, the gnarled tree branches blocking his view of the ground not a help.
He sat, legs dangling over the edge and pointedly didn't think about what would happen if it couldn't bear his weight. The view was nice, once his eyes adjusted to the dark and he buffed any smudges from the lenses of his glasses, miles upon miles of trees spanning out before him. Up above, the moon shone, full and round, against a backdrop of clear indigo blue.
For once, he could see the stars, distant pin pricks of light making up constellations he could name, but not point out the exact locations of. He remembered asking Vincent once if he'd drive them out into the country, away from the pollution of the city, until they could see them. Its romantic, it's what couples do, he'd said.
Vincent had refused, calling it a pointless and boring endeavor, and Alastor had kicked him from the bedroom. The couch was where he slept for all of two nights before Alastor had given in to that pathetically endearing puppy-dog look, forgiving him once again for things he really shouldn't have. A mistake he never learned from.
A breeze blew by and he became all too aware that he was only dressed in a t-shirt and thin trousers, the late hour and altitude contributing to the cold that was seeping through his meager layer. He headed back inside and settled in front of the fireplace, picking up one of the furs to use as a blanket. It was thick and had a softness that Alastor had never experienced with real fur before.
He stared at the flames, bundled up in his stolen blanket, and his thoughts wandered to his friends. What they were doing, if they were worried about him... Penny would be, that was just how she was. Hank would hold out for the night, staying levelheaded if only for Penny's sake, maybe tomorrow too if Alastor still hadn't turned up. Then he'd panic, but it would be cleverly disguised as action, calling all the right people, making a plan, maybe threatening Vincent just because. Alastor wished there was a way to assure them that he was okay. How long was Valentino going to hold him for? He had a life to get back to, he couldn't hole up in a cave for months on end, as tempting as the idea was.
...On second thought, why not? He had a healthy amount of savings, not a frivolous spender unlike some people, if he wanted to hunker down in his new place for a couple months with nothing but a stack of books, his old radio and his favourite whiskey, there was no one stopping him.
The fire was dying down and Alastor was just beginning to drift off when Valentino returned, basket filled with greens and a dead deer slung over one shoulder.
"When I said you should sleep, I meant in the bed, not on the floor. Though that rug is comfy, if I do say so myself."
The rug was a bear skin, huge and dark, and Alastor couldn't feel the unforgiving stone floor through it at all. He hadn't even noticed a- ah. The bed was right beside the fire place, so piled high with pelts it was effectively buried. It was where Alastor had stolen his own from, clinging loosely to his shoulders and threatening to fall. He gripped it tighter.
"You can hold onto that if you're cold, not like I don't have plenty more." Valentino mused, clearing the bed of pelts, "There, make yourself comfortable."
Alastor did so, having to jump in order to make it. The mattress and pillow were just as soft as everything else, stuffed with plush fur and downy feathers.
Valentino turned to leave again and a flash of panic had Alastor reaching out, grasping one arm in a bruising grip. The thought of being alone again so soon incredibly unappealing.
Softly, Valentino removed the hand and held it in his own, "I'm just going outside. I don't like stinking my home up when preparing meat. You can shout if you need anything."
"I could help." Alastor offered, "I used to hunt, not so much anymore, but I think I can skin a deer without messing it up."
"I appreciate the offer, amorcito, but I have my way of doing things."
He wanted to push, but thought better of it, "Alright."
"I'll be right outside." Valentino reiterated, and then left.
Alastor could hear him just beyond the curtain, doing whatever he did to prep the meat and foraged goods. It was comforting in an odd way, fear releasing its grip on his heart and subsiding to a faint buzz beneath his skin at the sound of flesh being sliced and organs being removed for an unknown purpose.
He didn't take as long as Alastor expected, working efficiently and soon returning with his spoils.
Finely sliced strips of deer meat were skewered onto sticks and placed over the flames, the same done with slices of mushroom. While they cooked, Alastor was handed a wooden bowl filled with freshly gathered blueberries, blackberries, and dandelion leaves.
"I only picked the very best and I didn't eat any of them on the way back." Valentino said proudly, "And I washed them too, because I know you humans can be fussy about that thing."
"Thank you." Alastor said earnestly, but only held the bowl in his hands.
Valentino sat beside him, long legs stretched out, and lightly bumped his shoulder, "What now?"
"How long will I have to stay here?"
"Just until dawn. That should be long enough, I think."
Relief washed over Alastor. All of that worrying for nothing. He picked up one of the blueberries, inspected it closely, and, upon deeming it clean and free of bugs, popped it into his mouth. The flavour burst over his tongue, the berry perfectly ripe and juicy, and he must have made a noise at the discovery because Valentino grinned beside him, bumping him again.
"Good, huh?"
"You chose well, I suppose."
"Oh, you suppose, such high praise!"
Alastor shrugged, "I'm feeling benevolent." He turned to the other, cheeky grin on his face, and had to look up and up and up. It was the first time he'd been so close to Valentino since he'd plucked him from the forest, and now he could really appreciate just how immense the height difference was.
"You know..." Valentino started, his tone flirtatious as he leaned in, "I could be your girlfriend, papi ciervo."
"I- What?"
A titter of amusement from the moth, "Oh, did you forget?" Valentino tapped his chest and Alastor looked down.
At his black shirt with its drawing of mothman and the text 'Mothman is real and he's my girlfriend'.
He whipped his head around as he felt his face warm, using the flames to disguise the new bright colour it was turning. A cough to clear his throat, and then, "That's flattering, my dear, but I just got out of a very long relationship, so I'm... not really on the market for... anyone, at all. Right now." God, that was awkward. Was he really rejecting the mothman? Penny would kill him and ruin all the effort he went through to save him.
Valentino took it in stride, "No hay problema, papi! I'm just teasing. Sorry about your ex though, would you, uh, like to talk about-"
"Heavens no." Alastor cut in, "This trip was meant to be a getaway from him and so far all I've done is talk about him and think about him, let's talk about you!" He turned back to the moth, looked him up and down.
Was promptly reminded that the mothman did not wear clothes and he was oh so close.
"What do you like?" Alastor asked, all but burying his face in his bowl of berries and then stuffing his mouth so he'd be forced to stop talking.
"Me?"
"Mmhm."
Valentino stayed quiet for a long moment, giving it some thought, and then, "I like people, I think you're fascinating!" He leaned forward, but the action wasn't as charged as it was previously, "I like to watch, when I can. It's hard because I'm nocturnal, and humans aren't and this town is so quiet, but when I travel to the bigger cities- there's so much to take in, you're all so different, it's- it's fascinating!"
Alastor was struck with the thought that the mothman's excitement was utterly adorable.
He continued, "You have so many jobs and so many hobbies and- and it's families that I like the most, relationships, partners. I like watching you be together, the kissing and holding hands, and going on your dates. The couples always seem to be in their own world, like no one else exists, and then there's the proposals and the weddings! Oh, the weddings are so beautiful, I- oh. You probably don't want to hear about that after..."
"No, I do. Go on." Alastor assured, covering one of Valentino's hands with his own, "I like hearing your passion. I think... with everything, I've forgotten what relationships are supposed to be, this new perspective on them is refreshing. Nice."
"Your relationship wasn't good? No, sorry, that's-"
"We were both as bad as each other. If anything, I was antagonizing him more..." Alastor cleared his throat forcefully, "You were saying?"
"I love love." Valentino gushed, easily picking up where he'd left off, "I always... I always wanted a partner. Someone to share everything with. I don't even have friends, and that would be nice, but what I want most is more. It's why I named myself Valentino. After your holiday, Valentines day. It's my favourite out of all the ones I've had the pleasure to observe."
"You named yourself?"
"Duh. I never had a mother and they're the ones who do the naming, right?"
"My mother named me, I think my father tried to have a say, but she wasn't having it."
Valentino scrunched up his face, "I would never let a father name me."
Alastor smiled, so wide his cheeks hurt, and it was one of the most genuine smiles he'd worn in a long time.
Then he sniffed, wrinkled his nose, "I think the venison is burning."
"Mierda!" Valentino exclaimed, shooting up from the bed. He grabbed the skewers carefully, utilizing all four hands as he tried to avoid burns, and set them on a plate, handing it to Alastor, "They're fine! They're fine, they're not burnt, but definitely cooked. Thoroughly. It's good I don't have to keep you alive for more than a night, right?"
"It would be a shame if you saved me from my horrific accident only to let me starve, but you've made a valiant effort." Alastor examined the meat. It wasn't completely a lost cause, it would just be difficult to chew. "I take it you don't often cook?"
Valentino nodded, "I don't need to. Sometimes I like to try and experiment, its not like I really have anything else to do with my time, but ingredients are kind of limited around here."
"I'm told I'm quite the chef, you should let me-" Alastor stopped himself.
He was about to suggest that Valentino allow him to prepare him something, but this was their only night together. In the morning, they'd part ways, and that would be that. His chest tightened at the realization. Why did that feel wrong? Leaving, and not just for a short time, but permanently.
Never seeing Valentino again.
He had to force himself to finish his food, even though it now tasted like ash on his tongue. Alastor may be many things, but he was not a rude houseguest, and he'd be damned if he didn't lick the bowl clean.
Picking up on his change in mood, Valentino tried to joke, "Looking back, perhaps I could have picked a less traumatizing way to help you, but people typically don't want to listen to the ten foot tall moth guy that just swooped out of nowhere."
Alastor set the bowl aside, ignoring the remark, "You didn't eat?"
"I did, actually. Ate as I butchered, there isn't much left of that deer."
"That's good."
Valentino frowned at him, tilting his head, "Are you alright...?"
"I think I just need to sleep, it's been a very long day." And that was the understatement of the century.
"Oh, sure, let me get out of your way."
And because he was tired - and selfish and greedy - and he resonated with Valentino's loneliness in a way he really shouldn't have, he said, "Stay. I know you don't need to sleep right now, but... please."
Valentino should tell him no, that it was a bad idea and Alastor didn't really want that, but he didn't. "Let me just stoke the fire." He whispered, as if speaking any louder would break whatever spell they were under.
Alastor kicked off his shoes and found a place for his glasses while he waited.
When Valentino returned, he fluffed up the pillow and adjusted the furs on the bed, ensured Alastor would be warm enough with his furless body, then took the side closest to the wall.
Shamelessly, Alastor tucked himself against the mothman's side, only to hiss as something dug uncomfortably into his chest. It was the microphone he was wearing. He detached it from his shirt and held it out, idly wondered if it had even recorded any of the last hour, "Do me a favour and crush this."
Without asking why, Valentino did as he was told, throwing the remnants into the fire.
Problem solved, Alastor resumed his attempt at snuggling, burying his face in the mane of white fur.
Valentino was warm and soft, and despite everything that said a beast such as mothman should smell bad, Alastor was pleasantly surprised to find he didn't. Something flowery and sweet in the place of wet dog. Magnolias, perhaps? Or lavender. He inhaled deeply, the scent filling him, surrounding him, and he soon found himself drifting off into a dreamless sleep.
-
Alastor awoke slowly, his head rising and falling with someone else's slow breaths, hair tickling his nose. It was too far too early to be getting up, that much was certain, and he groaned, huffed, buried his face further into his moving pillow.
"Good morning, sleepyhead."
"Ah!" Alastor launched himself back and subsequently fell off the bed, the drop further than he was expecting.
"Ay, Bambi, are you okay?" Big red eyes peered over the edge, scrunched in concern.
Alastor blinked, "Oh. Mothman."
"Valentino."
"Right." Alastor groaned, scrubbing at his face. He was still exhausted, ready to sleep through the rest of the weekend and Hell, even the following week too, "What time is it?"
"Just before sunrise." Valentino answered, and then after a beat, as if he didn't want to say it at all, "I can take you back now. I'd offer you breakfast, but I'm sure you just want to see your friends."
"That would be..." Horrible, I don't want to go, don't make me, why does it feel like your squeezing my heart and won't let go. "Wonderful, thank you."
"Make sure you have everything. There's no way to contact me if you leave anything important." Valentino said with a lopsided grin, another joke not quite landing.
Alastor pulled himself off of the floor and stretched, grimaced at the feel of clothes worn for too long. He dreamed of shitty motel water pressure as he slipped on his shoes and perched his glasses on his nose. A quick pat of his pockets revealed that his wallet and motel keys had remained safely tucked inside. There was nothing else important that he could remember, except the flashlight, but that had unfortunately been dropped when Valentino grabbed him, forever lost to the wilderness of West Virginia.
So... that was that. There was nothing left to do, Valentino's job officially complete and Alastor eager to see Hank and Penny again.
And yet it felt cruel to leave him. He just couldn't shake the feeling that doing so would be wrong. This was an inhuman creature with the kind of knowledge Alastor could never hope to learn, who'd survived decades, maybe even hundreds of years all by himself... he didn't need him.
He didn't need a human.
"I'm ready to get out of here." Alastor informed the mothman, standing before the fireplace, smoldering ashes still emiting a slight warmth that did nothing to ease his trembling.
"You might want to avoid looking down." Valentino told him as he led the way to the entrance, "Or just close your eyes. And it's important that you don't struggle, no matter how much you feel like you're slipping, I don't want to find out if I can survive plummeting to the earth today. I promise I have you."
The wording wasn't the best to appease to Alastor's predicament, I have you playing through his head on repeat. "I've never been afraid of heights, so I don't think it'll be hard to behave."
"Good, now get over here." Valentino effortlessly hauled him into a bridal carry, strong arms holding Alastor firmly to his chest. "I'll get you as close to town as I can, you shouldn't have too much trouble walking back. Ready?"
Alastor took a deep breath. Closed his eyes. "Ready."
He felt the launch, powerful legs propelling them over the edge of the cliff, felt the way Valentino's mighty wings caught the air, holding them aloft. He contemplated opening his eyes, but he might have lied about not being afraid of heights. Standing on the top floor of a skyscraper, looking at the ground through a pane of glass, was categorically not the same as watching the ground fly by as you trusted a cryptid that wasn't supposed to exist not to drop you.
Simaltaneously, it was over too soon and not fast enough, Alastor carefully let go to find his footing on solid ground.
"That road will take you to town as long as you go left, not right. Got it?" Valentino asked, pointing through the trees.
"Left, not right. Got it."
"Well, it was a pleasure having you over, Alastor, but this is where we part ways." Valentino stepped back and bowed, the motion smooth and deep. From that position, he glanced up and winked.
"Ridiculous." Alastor muttered with a roll of his eyes, but the smile on his face was fond.
Naturally, goodbyes came next, but Alastor didn't like the sound of that. Too final, too real. Backdropped by the rising sun, he said instead, "Good morning, I hope you sleep well now that you don't have to worry about me."
Valentino grinned, "Good morning. Enjoy your day, and the rest of your life. Which you're welcome for, by the way."
"You've said that a thousand times already."
"You have yet to thank me."
Alastor stared in horror.
Valentino howled a laugh.
"I'm so sorry, that's so rude of me, I can't believe I- than-"
"No! No, no, no, stop, save it. You can thank me properly if we cross paths again."
"Will we?"
"Who's to say?"
A flat look, "I'm going home."
"Before you go, I'd appreciate if you kept this just between us, yeah? Not that your friends don't seem lovely, especially that Penny, but I've got to keep up the mystery."
"Sure." Alastor promised, "I'd never hear the end of it if she found out, and I think I've had enough cryptid hunting for one lifetime."
"Good man." Valentino jumped then, not giving him an opportunity to say anything else as his wings carried him into the air and away.
He was out of sight in seconds.
-
The sun was high in the sky by the time he reached their motel and he breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar sight. He dug into his pocket for the key and reached his next dilemma, deciding whether to enter his own room, where Hank would be and who would let him sleep for as long as he wanted, or check in on Penny's room, who would ask him endless questions. That sort of frantic attention was exactly what he was craving in that moment, something he usually never cared for.
The decision was made for him as Penny threw open the door to his and Hank's room. She flung her full weight at him and Alastor caught her easily, buried his face in her red hair as she buried her face in his chest in turn, rail thin arms gripping him with a strength she shouldn't posess.
"We were so worried!" She sobbed, "We searched for hours!"
"I'm sorry." Alastor whispered, "I got a little turned around, trees all look the same in the forest."
Penny pulled away from, sniffing loudly, her eyes wide and wet, "I thought you were gone for good!"
"Don't be dramatic, my dear Penny, it was only a night." Alastor consoled, forcing a smile onto his face even as chest felt tight.
It hardly soothed the woman, voice watery as words tumbled from her lips, "I kept blaming myself because I know you didn't actually want to come out here with us and I had to beg you, but I'm also mad at you because you never take your phone anywhere! What if you had really gotten lost? Like really, really gotten lost, and broke your leg, or hit your head and you couldn't call anyone, huh?"
Dread filled him at the realization that this was just a glimpse at the grief his death would have caused. He wrapped his arms around her again, the type of hug he rarely gave, "I'm not going anywhere any time soon." He placed a kiss on her forehead and she hissed.
Frowning, Alastor pulled away, hands reaching up to part her hair and finding a raised bump covered by a deep purple bruise. "What happened?"
"Car crash-"
"It was hardly a crash." Hank interrupted, emerging from the room to join them, "A dumbass deer jumped into the road and I swerved. The car almost rolled-"
"Rolled?!" Alastor yelped incredulously, "I think that counts as a crash! Are you both alright?"
"Almost rolled." Hank corrected with a shrug, dedicated to his nonchalance, "Couple scrapes and bruises, but no lasting damage, and the car made it out okay too, so don't worry about getting out of here once the weekend's over."
"Are you alright, Alastor? You must have been so scared." Penny questioned, not waiting for an answer as she began to inspect every inch of uncovered skin.
"Please." Alastor scoffed, "A night out in the wilderness was a mild inconvenience at best, I'm only mad I didn't fight harder to carry the snacks. I'm starved."
"Me too, we only just got back a little while ago. Do you think anywhere's open right now?"
"I suspect they should be. How about breakfast and then we all sleep until two PM, hmm?"
"Sounds like a plan."
-
Alastor wasn't that hungry, more tired and desperately craving a shower, but he ordered a large breakfast and ate it all, if only to appease his friends. The conversation was stilted, but none of them minded. There wasn't much to say now that they were all together and confirmed safe.
Back at the motel, Penny didn't opt to use her own room and neither of them made her.
Alastor was permitted to shower first, washing his body thoroughly and then dressing in comfy pajamas. Penny was next, followed by Hank, and then they crammed themselves into one of the beds, the middle position claimed by Penny.
They stayed there until the agreed upon time of two PM.
-
"You know what we didn't do yesterday? Go to The Coffee Grinder! We were so caught up with the museum and shopping-"
"I think it was just you that was focused on shopping-"
"Either way! We didn't go to that cafe and I really wanted to get a mothman cookie for mothman, I bet he'd love it!"
The corners of Alastor's lips twitched up as the pair argued back and forth, despite the melancholy feeling taking over him. Speaking from experience, he could say with certainty that Valentino would appreciate a cookie made in his image. Might even question if there was a way he could preserve it for his collection, his prized possession.
"Hellooooo? Earth to Al, you still with us?"
A hand waving in front of his face drew him out of his thoughts more than the words, "Hm?"
"Do you think we should all get an extra cookie for mothman?" Penny repeated, "Just in case we all get separated again, not that I'm going to let that happen, I should handcuff you both to me."
Alastor wondered just how much of the conversation he'd zoned out of, because he hadn't been aware their hunt for the cryptid was still on for the following night. He pretended to think, before saying, "Why, it's a wonderful idea! I'm sure he'd be delighted at such a treat!"
"See?" Penny gave Hank a pointed look, "Al agrees with me, that's two to one. I win."
"As long as you pay for your own, I don't know why my card's been the only one getting swiped this trip."
"Well no one's forcing you, my good man! I think you just enjoy spoiling us."
A middle finger was presented to them, paired with a gruff, "Get fucked."
It was met with laughter.
-
Uncertainty was at the forefront of Alastor's mind as they prepared for night two of the trip and he couldn't discern why. Heart racing as if he was scared, as if his friends might get hurt, as if Valentino might get hurt. A stupid thought, it's not like they'd set out to capture the cryptid once they found him, they just wanted to get proof he existed, and Alastor trusted Valentino enough at this point that he didn't think he'd do anything unprovoked.
So why? He still had so many questions from their night together, what little information Valentino had been able to share just not satisfying enough. He had to trust him on that too, that what he did get was enough for Alastor to not lead them into trouble. Valentino had assured him that he was safe enough, that Hank and Penny were never in danger, but still, he worried, and he kept an extra close eye on them, not letting them wander far and sticking as close as he could, all but holding their hands.
-
Predictably, they didn't find anything, though Penny did poke at some deer droppings with a stick, just in case, and Hank didn't waste any time reminding them of his earlier threat. They returned to the motel not long after they'd left, picking up a pizza for each of them on the way.
Alastor stayed quiet throughout their meal.
Selfishly, he wished he'd had more time with Valentino, what would the mothman think of pizza? Exactly how much had he interacted with people in the past, what did he know about humans? How much did he want to know? Alastor liked the thought of being the first one to tell him about certain things, to be the one to teach him how great radio was, far superior to any modern technology. Would he appreciate how spectacular the jazz of the twenties and thirties was? Or would he prefer the pop slop that was so popular in the mainstream these days?
He wouldn't know. He wouldn't get to know.
They'd only be around for one more day, leaving early Monday morning to return to regular life.
And then it would just be Alastor and his brand new apartment in New Orleans. No Valentino, and definitely no Vincent.
Alone. Solo. Single.
The idea no longer excited him like it had the day prior. The thought of his space finally being his own again after so long.
He wanted company, but not just anyone would do.
With a heavy sigh, he stood and stretched, "I'm going to take a walk."
"Oh, great idea!" Penny beamed, getting up from her position on the floor, and then she paused, seeing something in Alastor's expression, and settled down again, "Don't be gone too long, okay?"
"And keep your phone on you." Hank tacked on, stern expression on his face.
"Thank you, mother, father, I'll be sure to do that." Alastor's voice dripped with enough sarcasm that they didn't bother him as he rooted around in his bag. He grabbed what he was searching for, and, after a moment of consideration, decided to take the mothman cookie with him too. Just in case.
His walk didn't take him far, only to the back of the building where he concluded he'd be decently hidden.
Then he selected a cigarette from the carton and lit it, sucking the smoke into his lungs as if he were a man stranded in the desert who'd finally found water. His head hit the brick wall with a soft thunk, the small shock of pain perfectly distracting. He did it again for good measure, taking another drag and flicking ash from the end of the cigarette.
"Really, chaparro? I didn't take you for a smoker."