Tread carefully, little Fawn.

Fawn's POV

My legs stayed curled beneath me, and there was a decent amount of distance between us on the couch. I was facing him, and this scene was very reminiscent of the first time we sat on this couch together.

"So, what do you want to know?" I asked him, smiling softly.

He looked at me a moment longer before drawing in a deep breath, "I'm just very curious...you may be from the future, but there's just a certain peculiarity to you," he said, and I blinked at his blatant acknowledgment of my situation.

So...he believes me now?

"Umm..." I started, and shrugged slightly, "I am from Louisiana...I grew up in this town, with uh..." I hesitated, and bit my lip slightly.

"With my mom..." I finished quietly, and there was a brief pause before I drew in a quick breath, "my dad wasn't around, I'm pretty sure he's in prison, but I couldn't really care less," I added, looking up to meet his eyes.

He shifted towards me slightly, tilting his head, "you asked me this question, but I have yet to ask you your age, my dear," he said, and I chuckled slightly.

"I'm 21," I answered with a smile, and he nodded.

"So, your mother...you say she raised you?" He asked me, and my smile quickly faded, my eyes falling back down.

"Yea..." I uttered quietly, and he was silent for a moment.

"...she's not around any longer, is she?" Was his next question, sounding much softer than the others. I let out a soft sigh, shaking my head.

Thinking of my mother was never something easy for me...it was a fresh and deep wound.

"My mother isn't around any longer, either," he added, making my ears perk with interest. The picture passed through my mind, and without even thinking I blurted out my thought.

"She was the woman in that picture with you, right?" I asked him, and he stared at me for a second as I realized what I just said and my eyes widened.

I was terrified he'd be furious with me for going through his things, but he just chuckled.

"You're a snoopy little thing, aren't you?" He asked me lightly, a grin on his lips. I looked down with a timid smile.

"Sorry..." I mumbled, and he waved it off.

"No need, I'm sure if I were in your position I'd do a bit of snooping as well," he said, "but to answer your question, yes, the woman in the photograph with me was my mother," he said, his voice turning very soft.

He sighed, and I looked up at him. Scooting just a bit closer, I settled less than a foot away from him.

"What happened...? If you don't mind me asking..."

His eyes shifted to me and they held a new sadness to them I'd never seen on him before. Those brown eyes caught mine, and for a moment we just stared at one another.

"Another time..." he said softly, and I nodded in understanding.

My smile returned, and I rolled my shoulders back. I drew in a quick breath between my teeth as I threw my arm over the back of the couch casually.

"Well, then, let me tell you about my momma," I said with an upbeat tone. She may have died, but that doesn't mean I have to tell her story in a solemn tone.

Alastor seemed pleased with how easily I dropped the subject of his own mother, and even more excited about the happiness I showed in preparation to talk about mine.

Tilting his head, he chuckled, "are you sure? You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he said, and I shrugged.

"You're not obligated to tell me anything, but you asked me about my life before I came here, and I have no problems with telling you," I said.

His eyes grew softer behind his glasses and he relaxed back into the couch a little more. The smile on his face was genuine as he prepared to listen.

I went into my birth, first, since that's probably the most interesting thing about me.

"Ok so, to start off, I was born on a riverboat," I explained with a little hand motion and his eyes widened.

"What?" He chuckled, and I nodded, "yep, my mom was many things, but the woman couldn't plan properly for shit," I said, smiling and knowing she's shaking her fist at me from heaven.

He chuckled at that, and I continued, "anyway, promptly after my birth, my father abandoned us," I grimaced at the mention of him. Stupid freeloader.

Alastor rolled his eyes.

"My father as well was a bit of a...shall we say...prick?" He said, and I was surprised to hear him use such a word. Giggling I nodded, "I'm glad you and I have that in common," I said, and held my fist up to him, expecting a fist bump.

He looked at my hand curiously, and then back to me.

"What're you doing?" He asked me, and I tilted an eyebrow.

Does he not know what a fist bump is?

Shaking off my mild surprise, I gave him a warm smile, "hold your hand up like I'm doing mine right now," I told him, waiting for him to follow my directions.

He did, slowly and skeptically, eyeballing me like I was about to do something to him.

When all I did was innocently connect our knuckles, his lips parted slightly and he pulled his hand back after a second and rubbed his knuckles.

I giggled, thoroughly amused at the wonderstruck look in his eyes at such an innocent and childish act of friendship.

"It's a fist bump, silly, you never done a fist bump before?" I questioned, already knowing the answer. He shook his head, his smile widening.

He chuckled slightly, still absentmindedly rubbing his knuckles, "can't say I have, dear...believe it or not, as a child, I didn't have many friends. I never did many silly things such as what you just did..." his grin softened and I pulled my brows together.

I noticed he looked just slightly embarrassed about what he'd just told me, his eyes having fallen to his lap, but I just touched his leg in a friendly gesture.

Nudging him gently, I gave him a small smile when his eyes lifted to meet mine, "I didn't have a lot of friends, either," I said softly.

At these words, his eyes lit up and his small grin widened into a big smile.

Through the rest of the night I found myself genuinely enjoying his company, and we laughed together and told stories of our childhood.

I told him about my mother, and about how she raised me all on her own.

"Yea, my grandparents were both dead by the time I was old enough to remember," I sighed, "so most of my life, I grew up in a one bedroom apartment, and we did everything together," I said, a small, reminiscent smile on my lips.

Alastor sat quietly and listened, looking genuinely interested in my words.

"She was, and is, my hero...I try to be like her in every way imaginable, and her advice got me through most of my life," I continued, meeting his eyes for just a moment. The pure interest he held behind them made a blush rise to my cheeks and I quickly looked away.

"U-um...she taught me how to do pretty much everything...from my hair, to my taxes, she was there to help me figure out all of it..." my voice turned small, and my smile slowly faded as I reached the end of my story.

"A year ago, she was murdered and raped after a man broke into our apartment while I was at work..." I nearly mumbled, keeping my eyes straight down as my cheeks heated up and tears burned my eyes.

Sucking on my bottom lip, I could see her mangled body in my memories. The way her eyes were wide open and terrified, full of tears...lifeless.

Alastor was completely silent, I don't even think he was breathing. I kept talking, my voice quivering as I fought to keep my composure.

"The only thing he fuckin took beside her life was the godamn Tv..." I hissed through grit teeth, big tears falling over my cheeks and blurring my vision, "I just remember...the moment I saw her laying there in a puddle of her own blood...my world just..." I paused, my lips trembling slightly as I parted them.

"Stopped..." I whispered.

"She was all I had, and had been all I had since the day I was born..." again I bit my lip and shook my head, shutting my eyes tightly, "and I was all she had...and the one time she needed me I wasn't there..." I whimpered, burying my face into my hands.

I heard a soft tsk, and then almost gasped in surprise at the feeling of Alastor's fingers under my chin. He lifted my head, his eyes looking soft as he looked down at me.

"None of that, cher, come now..." he mumbled, brushing away my tears gently with his thumbs, "your momma wouldn't want you sitting here crying," he added.

I sniffled, just letting him wipe away my heavily flowing tears. Hiccuping softly, I watched him pull out a clean handkerchief and he used that to wipe my nose.

The amount of times I've cried within the past couple days is borderline ridiculous.

Once he had calmed me down, he cupped my cheek with one hand and slid it down to my chin, lifting my head up high.

"Chin up, and put a smile back on that pretty face of yours," he said, his tone sounding soft.

His compliment made color bloom across my nose, and I gave him the best smile I could muster.

In return he shot me that one in a million grin, taking his fingers away from my face.

"There she is," he said quietly, and I chuckled, shaking my head.

"Stop that..." I murmured, smiling stupidly.

"Stop what?" He questioned, but there was an obvious confidence behind it that told me he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Being all flirty!" I chuckled, looking back up at him with a big smile, "you're being flirty, you big jerk!" I said, pushing him lightly.

He chuckled and I noticed the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiled. His smile has never reached his eyes before until just then.

My heart thumped in my chest, and immediately I caught myself slipping.

Firmly I reminded myself that he is a murderer, a murderer who is holding me captive in his house and who has actively tried and threatened to kill me.

But even those reminders couldn't stop the warm feeling at seeing him so relaxed.

When we had both settled down, he sighed, and then looked behind me. Checking over my shoulder, my eyes landed on the clock and I noticed it was nearly 1 am.

Alastor hummed, "I suppose we should head to bed...if you can manage to sleep after that nap you stole," he said teasingly, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

Just as I was getting ready to stand up, he stopped me, placing his hand on my wrist.

"Dear, you said you were 21, correct?" He asked, and I tilted an eyebrow and nodded. His smile widened, and he shrugged.

"Well, I can't see you managing to get yourself home anytime soon..." he said, making my eyelids lower as my mouth formed an annoyed line, "so how about this weekend, you and I head to one of my favorite speakeasies?" He suggested.

Did he just...ask me out...?

Shrugging off that slim possibility, I brushed it off as him being friendly and a smirk pulled at my lips.

"Alastor? I'm surprised at you, you attend illegal bars?" I said with a fake gasp.

He rolled his eyes, but chuckled at my playful accusation. I chuckled as well, and nodded.

"I'd love to," I said with a genuine smile.

The smile that split his features at my answer was bright, "splendid!"

He removed his hand from my wrist, and I stood up.

"Goodnight!" I called over my shoulder, and then began to head up the stairs.

My cheeks slowly became warmer and warmer, a smile worming its way onto my face as I thought about the actually decent night we'd just shared.

Part of me forgot what it was like...having someone to talk to...

How strange, it took being sent back in time and meeting a psychotic killer for me to finally make a connection with someone since my mother.

A sigh left my lips as I fell back onto my bed, my face immediately scrunching in displeasure at the far less comfortable mattress.

Then my features relaxed as I turned over.

Maybe this won't be so bad after all...at least until I can find a way home.