Archive of Our Own

Red sparkles tore through the air. The portal yawned open. Blitz, Millie, and Moxxie jumped through, and--

And froze.

Blitz's jaw dropped open.

When the client had said mail distribution center, Blitz had thought they meant something like the shitty little post office in Millie's hometown that had one ancient imp working in it and two entire envelopes to ship. He'd expected some bins, maybe. He certainly hadn't understood why such a place would need a security guard, but what did he know about humans? Blitz killed them. He didn't give a shit why they were so weird.

This was no small-town post office. This was a warehouse, larger than most of the warehouses even in Greed. Hundreds of conveyor belts criss-crossed and interlinked through the whole thing like webs in a hell-spider infested cave. Even with night vision, the conveyor belts cast strange shadows. They gave the impression that the warehouse had no floor. That the web of belts went down into the pits of the earth, all the way down to Greed.

"The fuck?" Millie leaned on her axe. Her eyes surveyed the warehouse. "This ain't what I expected."

"Sure isn't what the client made it sound like," Blitz grumbled. "Christ on a stick. Let's--"

"There he is!" Millie shot upright and hoisted her axe, already bounding across the stationary belts toward a dark shadow on the far side of the warehouse.

Blitz and Moxxie's gazes met for half a heartbeat before they were both bounding after her.

"Millie!" Moxxie hissed, but Millie was faster, and more importantly, once she was on a mission, she wouldn't stop for anything. In Blitz's own words: it would take a 'roided up hippo to stop her, upset or not.

Blitz saw the second and third shadow just a moment too late. His eyes widened as Millie jumped toward the human, axe in the air, whooping. He didn't have time to warn her. He just dove after her, throwing himself between her and the two humans she hadn't noticed while she attacked the first one.

And then the slow-motion moment ended, and the bits of Hell that Blitz, Millie, and Moxxie had brought with them broke loose.

Millie might have been reckless, but she was also one of Hell's best assassins. It was why Blitz had recruited her in the first place. Her axe cleanly swept through the target's neck, separating his head from his shoulders. Millie landed in a neat roll, using the weight of her axe to propel herself back to her feet. But by the time she was turning to grin at Moxxie and Blitz, however, the other humans had reached Blitz.

Blitz pulled his knife out as he rolled up between the two extra humans. A woman and a man, who both shouted in surprise, drawing batons from their belts. Blitz went for the man first, leaping at him with his knife outstretched. The human caught Blitz by the wrist and the lapels of his coat and threw him back, cussing in his face as he went.

Blitz hit a control panel with a grunt, electricity sparkling and hissing. The warehouse groaned. An alarm blared once, twice, three times.

Then the belts came to life.

Blitz didn't have the time to check on Millie or Moxxie, but judging by the yelling, there were more humans. Because of course there were more humans.

"What the fuck is this thing?" the human that had thrown Blitz shrieked. Blitz tumbled to the ground and scrambled back up, pawing at his coat for his revolver, but the woman was running at him with her baton. Blitz hissed and abandoned the hunt for his gun and threw himself at her. His knife stabbed into her chest. She screamed. The man yelled her name. Blitz grinned as her blood splattered his face.

His victory was short-lived.

The man caught Blitz by his shirt. No--not his shirt. He watched in horror as the man dragged him up with his hand around Blitz's skull charm. Blitz clawed at the man's wrists, his arm, and then surged forward and sunk his teeth into the man's wrist. The foul taste of human blood rushed through Blitz's mouth. The man screamed, ragged and raw, and flung Blitz like he was a bothersome rag. Blitz flew. The pendant flew. Blitz's head cracked against a conveyor belt, and he blacked out for a heartbeat before he managed to turn onto his side and catch sight of his skull charm flying.

"Millie!"

Blitz froze.

The pendant was on a conveyor belt leading away from Blitz, away from the fight, nestled between two packages. Moxxie's scream was guttural.

Blitz's head pounded. He turned.

One of the humans had Moxxie by the back of his coat, flailing in the air. Three other humans, including the one that had thrown Blitz, had Millie surrounded. One of them was holding Moxxie's gun and aiming it at Millie. Millie was crouched. Her axe was gone. She growled at the humans like a feral cat.

Blitz sent one last desperate look at his skull pendant. Then he bent his legs and launched himself into the air toward Millie and Moxxie. He didn't wait to land; he tore his revolver from under his coat and aimed for the human with Moxxie's gun. Blitz fired. The humans screamed. The bullet flew. Blitz landed on the back of the human that had thrown him and fired his revolver against the side of the human's head. Blood splattered. Brain matter flew. When Blitz could see again, Millie was running full-throttle at the human holding Moxxie.

"Put my husband down!" she roared. She launched herself at the human's face.

That left--

The remaining human's baton smacked into the side of Blitz's head, and everything went gloriously black.

"--itz? C'mon, B, wake up. We gotta go."

"Five mo' minutes," Blitz groaned, turning his face away from the voice. He was tired. He'd been dreaming, too, of his mama. She'd been singing.

"Sir? Are you alright?"

"Obviously he's not alright, Mox."

"Millie..."

Blitz's head hurt. Christ on a cracker, was he hungover? He hadn't felt this fucked up since Ozzie's.

"Shit. Sorry." A sigh. "I'm just worried about him."

"I know, honey. It's alright."

"Blitz, can you hear us? Don't pass out again." A hand pressed against his cheek. Calloused, warm. Not at all like Stolas's. "B?"

"Whattttt?" Blitz managed to pry open one eye and cringed when he saw Millie and Moxxie's faces swimming above him. His head spun. Both of them were covered in human blood and dust. They looked awful. Blitz squinted at them. "The fuck happened?"

Millie's six faces frowned at him. "You got hit pretty hard in the head." Her hand was still against his cheek, but he couldn't quite tell which face it the hand went to. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, just fine," he said through a groan.

"I think he's got a concussion," Moxxie's four faces said. Huh. Why were there four of Moxxie and six of Millie?

"Nuh-uh." Blitz tried to move a hand to scratch his face and accidentally smacked one of the Moxxies. Moxxie scowled and swatted at the offending hand, then held up his own hand.

"Sir, how many fingers am I holding up?"

Blitz blinked and managed to open his other eye even though his eyelid felt like a million pounds. "Which hand?"

The Millies and the Moxxies turned to look at each other with deep frowns.

"What do we do?" Moxxie asked.

Millie looked back at Blitz. "B, I think we better take you to a hospital."

Adrenaline shot through Blitz. "Fuck, no--no hospitals." He tried to sit up, and black spots appeared in his vision, and his stomach lurched. A moment later, he was vomiting onto the concrete and sputtering words through gags. "No, you can't, I won't--"

"Blitz!" Millie's hands pushed Blitz back down when he tried to sit up again. He blinked blearily up at all twelve of her faces. "I know you don't like 'em, B, but this is bad. If your brain is scrambled--"

Blitz thought of scrambled eggs and immediately gagged again. Millie turned him onto his side, and he vomited. A hand pressed to his back.

"Fuck," Moxxie hissed. "How are we supposed to get him to a hospital if we can't even get him to sit up?"

"No hospitals," Blitz moaned into the concrete. "'m fine."

Millie's tail swatted Blitz's side. Her hands still pressed into him, one keeping him from tipping forward into the puddle of vomit or onto his back, and the other rubbing his back slowly. Blitz shut his eyes. It made the pounding in his head a little less violent. "You are not, you fuckin' idiot."

"'m the boss."

"You don't get to make decisions when you can't even see straight."

"I nev'r see straight." Blitz giggled, then coughed and spat. His mouth tasted foul.

"Oh, Satan." There were a few moments of wonderful silence where Blitz started to sink back into himself, and then whatever silent conversation had been happening over his head came to a conclusion. A hand slipped into Blitz's coat. Blitz grunted and opened an eye.

"Millie, I love ya', but not like that."

All of the Millies scowled at him as she withdrew her hand. She handed whatever she'd stolen to Moxxie, who stood up and walked away, heels clicking on the concrete. "Sorry, B," Millie said, a little too kindly.

Blitz squinted at her. "Wha' for?"

Millie's gaze flicked up and over Blitz toward Moxxie's voice. Blitz couldn't figure out what he was saying over the rush of his pulse in his head and Millie's hand against his back. Blitz felt like he was trying to hear a conversation happening on the surface while his head was two feet underwater.

"For rushin' in and makin' things go sideways," Millie said, still watching Moxxie. "And also for who's about to show up."

Blitz frog-blinked. "Huh?"

Millie's gaze dropped to his. She smiled gently. It was that soft smile that reminded Blitz of his mother. It was comforting enough that Blitz forgot to ask what Millie meant.

"Oh, Lucifer."

Blitz blinked again up at Millie. She cringed. Talons tapping on concrete, long strides, and then a new pair of hands guided Blitz back onto his back. They were careful not to knock Blitz's horns into the concrete and settled his head against something soft wedged between Blitz and the ground.

Blitz stared up at the feathers, the red eyes, the beak, the mouth downturned. The loose feathers at the top of his face that hung over his eyes. The way his pupils flickered between visible and hidden as they scanned Blitz's face.

Blitz tried to turn his head back to Millie and felt his brain wobble in his skull. He groaned and shut his eyes. "'m hallucinatin'," he tried to tell her.

She snorted. "No, you're not."

"What on earth happened?" the voice that wasn't real said.

"Client didn't tell us exactly what we were walkin' into, Your Highness."

Oh, lovely. Now Millie was talking to Blitz's hallucination, too.

A leathery hand cupped Blitz's face. This time, what must have been Millie's hand felt remarkably like Stolas's. A thumb brushed his cheek. "Blitz? Blitz, can you open your eyes?"

"No." Blitz squeezed his eyes shut out of spite and immediately regretted it when it sent new spikes of pain through his temples. "Don' wanna."

"A human got him real hard in the side of the head with one of these." Millie's voice seemed far away now, even though she had to have her hand on Blitz's face. Blitz would kill Moxxie if he was cupping his cheek like an impling. Moxxie would probably cut his own hand off, anyway. "We think he's got a concussion."

"Don't," Blitz grumbled.

"I asked him how many fingers I was holding up, and he asked which hand I was asking about."

"Stop talkin' to the hall--hull--halulc--hanulli--fuck."

"What?" asked the voice. Because of course having a splitting headache and being unable to see wasn't enough. Blitz's brain had to torture him, too.

"I think he thinks he's hallucinating you, Your Highness."

Blitz expected the hallucination to laugh. It didn't. A hallucination and he couldn't even control it? Bullshit.

"Blitz?" That voice was so soft, so gentle. "Blitz, darling, can you open your eyes for me? Just for a moment. I'll make the pain go away."

Blitz seriously doubted hallucination-Stolas had a cure for the pain living behind Blitz's ribcage. Or his head.

"Please?"

Fuck.

Blitz groaned as he squinted up at the hallucination. Huh. Funny. This one only had one face, though his face kept swaying back and forth. He looked sad. Which didn't make sense. Stolas was never sad. Except about Via, or Blitz being an asshole, and he didn't think he'd been an asshole to hallucination-Stolas. And Blitz didn't know anything about the Via situation to hallucinate it.

Satan, his head hurt.

Fingers pressed into either side of his head, digging into his temples. Blitz groaned again, and then pink and blue lights swarmed over his eyes, clouding his vision. The magic soaked into his skin. It tasted like lavender and brimstone and the scent of Stolas after Blitz had successfully fucked him enough to be able to smell Stolas over the heavy fog of his preening oils.

That scent--Stolas, pure Stolas--shot through Blitz like an arrow, piercing the throbbing headache and his murky thoughts. Adrenaline jump-started Blitz's heart. When he blinked the pink and blue away, Stolas's face was no longer blurry, and he wasn't swaying.

Blitz still felt nauseous, but now it was for a different reason.

"Blitz?" Stolas asked.

Blitz blinked up at him. He tried to put together the pieces of his headache, the concrete beneath him, the sharp odor of vomit, the groaning machinery, the way Stolas hovered over him. And even though the headache and the spinning was gone, his thoughts still felt slow and thick like he was trying to drag them through syrup. "Stols?" He wasn't sure if he was slurring or if he had actually meant to say it like that, but Stolas's brows furrowed. He tilted his head in that stupid cute way that made Blitz's chest feel funny.

"Perhaps I got the spell wrong." Pages ruffled beside Blitz's head, and he turned his head, this time managing to see the book held aloft by shimmers and sparkles beside Blitz and Stolas.

"No," Blitz said. He was starting to find the shape of what had happened.

Concussion. Magic. Stolas. No more concussion.

Stolas's gaze flicked back to his. Stolas's face was screwed up with... concern? No. Maybe he was having indigestion.

Blitz closed his eyes and groaned. He managed to press a hand to his face without any casualties. "Fuck me."

"How are you feeling, Sir?" Moxxie's voice was threaded with worry.

"Like I got hit in the head with a fucking bat." Blitz groped against the ground with his other hand and managed to get his elbow braced against the concrete so he could push himself up a little.

"Careful," Stolas said. He wasn't touching Blitz anymore, but Blitz could feel him all around, could feel his hands inches from Blitz's shoulders. "I'm not the most skilled healer."

Blitz ignored him and pushed himself all the way up to sitting before he scrubbed at his eyes to make the black spots go away. Only once he was sure he wasn't going to pass out or throw up again did he open his eyes again to squint at Stolas.

Stolas sat on his knees in front of Blitz, hands now folded in his lap. The white pupils were gone. Maybe Blitz had hallucinated those.

Blitz's gaze flicked around him. The warehouse. The conveyor belts.

Stolas had...

"Thanks," Blitz grumbled, staring at a point past Stolas's head. "Sorry for interruptin' your.... prince shit."

"You weren't interrupting anything." Stolas's voice was still gentle, soft. Blitz wasn't sure if it was making his skin crawl because he loved it or because he hated it. "I am always willing to come if you need me."

There was a dirty joke there, but Blitz was still too disoriented to find it.

There was a flash of red in the distance. The rest of what had happened slammed into Blitz like a freight train. He felt the impact rattle through his skin, his muscles, all the way down to his bones, ricocheting into his bloodstream.

Mom.

Blitz was on his feet and sprinting into the depths of the warehouse faster than the others could react. He was vaguely aware of voices echoing in the cavern of his mind, but all he could see was his mother's face, the skull pendant, the last glimpse he'd caught of it before he'd had to leave it to help Millie and Moxxie.

He scrambled up onto a moving conveyor belt, turned in a rapid circle that made his head spin, looked frantically for any glimpse of red. Anything. He panted, tried to remember what direction it had been moving in, but he had already gotten himself turned around. The warehouse pulsed around him, its own living, breathing beast.

And it had swallowed all he had left of his mother.

"No, no, no--" Blitz clutched at his chest where the pendant was supposed to be, felt his vision cloud over, saw his mother as she'd--

"Blitz!" Millie's voice shattered through his awareness. He turned his head. She had climbed onto the conveyor belt beside him, her tail swishing back and forth as they moved along with the boxes. Her brows were downturned in that way they got when she was somewhere between angry and concerned. "B, what happened? What's wrong?"

Then her eyes dropped to where Blitz's hands were. Her eyes widened.

"Oh, no," she whispered.

Blitz's heart squeezed. His eyes burned. "I lost her," he choked.

Millie darted forward, arms and tail both winding around him. She squeezed harder than Blitz's heart could, and he burst into tears right there, in the middle of a shitty warehouse on some random, shitty day, with his head still foggy and his thoughts spiraling and he'd lost her, he'd lost her, he'd lost her again--

"What the fuck?" Moxxie panted. "What--oh, shit."

Millie was holding Blitz like a boa constrictor, squeezing so hard that it was almost painful. Blitz choked on a sob and turned into her, hands still at his neck. He was pretty sure he was supposed to not want them to see this. He was pretty sure he didn't care.

I lost her again.

"What happened?" Moxxie squeaked.

Millie didn't answer Moxxie. Instead, she spoke to Blitz. "We'll find it, B." She sounded so confident, in true Millie fashion. "We'll search this whole fuckin' warehouse if we have to."

But they were on borrowed time. They'd made a mess of the humans. More would be here. And soon.

"What did he lose? What could possibly--" Moxxie's voice cut off. "Oh, fuck."

Millie rubbed Blitz's back like she had earlier. "We're gonna find it. Right, Mox?"

"This warehouse is pretty big--"

"Right, Mox?" Millie growled.

"Oh, uh--yeah, yeah, we'll find it, Sir." A beat. "Why don't we ask the prince to help?"

Blitz stiffened. "What?" he croaked, lifting his head to blink at Moxxie.

Moxxie stood past Millie on the same conveyor belt as them, fiddling with his bowtie. He glanced in the direction they'd come from. "Why don't you ask Stolas? Maybe he can use magic to find it."

Blitz's stomach and heart squeezed simultaneously. A flicker of hope, but also--

"That's a good idea!" Millie pulled away from Blitz far enough to grin at him. "Mox is right."

Blitz felt sick.

I lost her again.

"Okay," he agreed. His voice was hoarse. "Fuck. Okay."

Millie hopped down to the floor first. Blitz and Moxxie followed: Blitz, scrubbing at his face with his sleeve, and Moxxie with a muttered Crumbs as he nearly tripped over another conveyor belt. Blitz let Millie lead him back to the scene of the fight, where Stolas still sat, eyes wide and watching as they approached. The groan of machinery felt more like laughter now than a pulse.

Stolas's gaze didn't leave Blitz the whole time they approached, not once flickering to Millie or Moxxie. His pupils were back, like Blitz running off with no warning was something to be concerned about. As if it wasn't a daily occurrence.

Blitz's skin crawled. He couldn't believe Stolas had seen this. First, Blitz concussed and half-unconscious in a pool of his own vomit, and now with his eyes still stinging and his tail wrapped around himself like a scared impling. Blitz stopped in front of him, staring at the ground between them. Like this, Blitz and Stolas's eyes were almost at the same height.

"Are you alright?" Stolas's voice wavered.

"Can you find something for me?"

"Pardon?"

Blitz swallowed hard and managed to lift his gaze long enough to see that stupid concerned look on Stolas's face. He had to look away again. "I--I lost something earlier. During the fight." He swallowed again, this time his pride. "Can you find it for me? Please?" He'd get down on his knees and beg if he had to, and he was just about to start when Stolas spoke again.

"Of course."

Blitz closed his eyes. There were so many beasts warring inside of him now. All the complicated fucking feelings about Stolas, now compounded by--by this. He'd brush Blitz off about the full moons but come running when Blitz was hurt? Would help the moment Blitz asked? What the fuck did that mean?

"What am I locating?" Stolas sounded uncannily soft, so unlike all those nights they'd fucked nasty. So gentle. Like the glimpse of Stolas Blitz had caught in L.A. when he'd been worried about Octavia. Like the voice he'd used on that shitty, shitty night to invite Blitz inside. The voice Blitz had thought was a mask.

Blitz still had his hands clutched at his neck. He forced himself to move them away and expose the empty spot where it was supposed to be. "The pendant."

"Your--Oh." Stolas hesitated, and Blitz looked up at him. This time, Stolas broke eye contact, looking out at the warehouse.

"You can find it, can't you?" Blitz asked. He wished he didn't sound desperate. He was.

"Yes, I can." Stolas looked back at him, a new expression that Blitz didn't recognize on his feathers. His beak clenched. But he also looked sort of sad? Or maybe--

Maybe it was guilt?

"I can locate it," Stolas repeated. "But the spell requires me to, er... Well. What I mean to say is, I would need to know--That is--I don't mean to pry, or anything, but--"

"Stolas." Blitz tried to sound irritated but failed miserably. "What do you need?"

Stolas cringed. "I... need to know what your emotional attachment to it is."

Blitz froze. Stolas looked away again.

"It's not that I want to force you to... to share with me," Stolas continued, his voice starting to pitch up like it did when he was talking too fast and too much. "I swear I am not lying. My location spell is centered on emotional ties, and, well--"

"Stolas," Blitz repeated. Stolas's beak clicked shut. "It's fine. I--I can--" Blitz coughed, and glanced at Millie and Moxxie.

Millie smiled at him and put a hand on Moxxie's shoulder. "Mox and I will go keep a look out for any new humans," she said.

Moxxie squeaked. "We will?"

Millie elbowed him and then began to tow him away. "Yes, Mox, we will."

Blitz watched them go. Felt his stomach clench again, but there was nothing left to throw up. He cleared his throat when they turned a corner and were well and truly out of hearing range, and he turned away from Stolas, pacing a few steps away.

"I'm sorry," Stolas whispered.

Blitz squeezed his eyes shut, still facing the wall instead of the prince. "It's fine." His voice cracking didn't really sell it.

Where to even begin?

"Do you remember my dad?"

The question seemed to catch Stolas by surprise, because he didn't immediately answer. It caught Blitz by surprise, too. But the words It was my mother's felt too big. Like they wouldn't fit through his throat or his teeth, and he'd choke on them and die.

"...Yes. He was the ringmaster at the circus, yes?"

Blitz forced a jerky nod, eyes still shut. "Right, well. He, uh." Blitz laughed weakly. "He wasn't exactly a model parent."

Stolas didn't answer.

"But, uh." Why couldn't he say it? "He wasn't really... He wasn't my... I--" Blitz stopped and groaned, dropping to a crouch. His tail wrapped around his knees, and he pressed his hands to his face.

"Your mother?" Stolas guessed, because he was Stolas, and his voice was so fucking gentle, and warm, and sweet, and Blitz felt like bursting into tears all over again.

"Yeah," Blitz croaked. He blinked hard, wiped his face.

"What..." Stolas's voice trailed off. "Can I ask what... what happened?"

Blitz tasted ash. The smoke filled his lungs. The stench of sulphur. Fireworks. Burning flesh. Burning plastic. The screaming. Her screaming.

All he managed to say was, "Fire."

"Oh, Blitz."

Blitz couldn't turn and accept that sympathy. He couldn't. He didn't deserve it. Stolas didn't know. Stolas didn't know. And if he found out--

Blitz's tail squeezed tighter, constricting against his knees so hard that it burned a little. "Is that enough?" he asked, voice grating against his throat.

Stolas exhaled. Blitz slowly stood and turned to see Stolas still watching him, like he hadn't looked away the whole time Blitz had his back turned. And there were tears in his eyes.

Blitz looked down, to the side, past Stolas. Anywhere but at his eyes. Blitz didn't deserve sympathy.

You're no son of mine.

Blitz stopped a few paces away from Stolas and wrapped his arms around himself. His tail followed, ever insistent on revealing Blitz's weaknesses.

"It... it should be." Stolas cleared his throat, and his magic swirled around the book where it had been sitting on the ground in front of him. Blitz watched, only half-seeing, while the magic glowed in Stolas's face, in his eyes. He stretched out a hand over the book, spoke low and soft in a language that Blitz didn't recognize. A compass made of sparkling pink formed in his hand, but the hand kept spinning, never stopping. Stolas's gaze tracked it, his expression falling--

The compass burst into an explosion of sparkles.

Like a firework.

Stolas looked up at Blitz helplessly, his regret obvious even to Blitz. "I'm sorry," Stolas whispered again.

Blitz looked up at the ceiling to hide the moisture in his eyes and turned away, but he didn't walk this time.

Blitz knew what the missing piece was. He knew what else Stolas needed. He knew it, deep in his gut, and it felt like a thousand pounds, dragging him down into the earth. Blitz saw two paths before him. Tell Stolas, and lose him and the grimoire and his business and Millie and Moxxie and Loona forever. Or stay silent, and never see that pendant again. Lose everything he had left of his mother. Of his family. Of his home.

"Is there something--something important?" Stolas asked. "Something else about it? Where she got it, maybe, or if it was a family--"

"It was my fault," Blitz whispered.

Stolas went silent.

"It was my fault," Blitz repeated, voice shaking. He stared out at the warehouse, unseeing. "That's why Fizz--why he hates me. That's how he lost his limbs. It was my fault."

My fault.

"The whole circus burned. Every tent. Everyone lost everything. Fizz lost his limbs. And, we, I--I lost--"

His voice broke. The tears were insistent. They crowded his lids, squeezed out onto his cheeks.

"It was Fizz's birthday," Blitz said. Now that the words had begun, he couldn't quite manage to stop them. "And I... I wanted to give him something special. But I went to his party and I saw my dad treating him like the... like a son. Like he'd never treated me. And I stomped away. And--and--" He took a ragged breath. "I ran into the guy holding Fizz's cake. I didn't realize it was already lit. I didn't even fucking think about it. I just... kept walking. And it--it spread so fast." Blitz choked on a sob. "She was--she was sick, and she couldn't--"

His knees buckled. They cracked against the cement and Blitz didn't feel an ounce of the pain.

"I killed her," he wheezed, and then he bowed his head, awaiting the fall of the axe, the blow he deserved. He hoped Stolas would at least have the kindness to find the pendant for him before he left.

The silence stretched out. Blitz refused to lift his head, to turn, to face the expression he knew would be on Stolas's face. He'd seen it a million times. On his father's, on Fizz's, on Barbie's. On every circus survivor he'd encountered in the years since he'd set his own life ablaze. He knew what he was. It was always only a matter of time before everyone else found out.

"Can I hug you?"

Blitz was so startled by the question that he actually lifted his head, staring out at the warehouse. "What?"

Stolas's voice was wet and wobbly. "Can--Can I hug you?" He sounded closer than before.

Blitz didn't move. Stolas walked around in front of him, then dropped down to his knees, and Blitz rose his gaze, looked up--

Stolas was crying. There was no anger, no disappointment. Just grief.

Blitz shattered.

The sob was loud and ugly and it hurt as it tore itself from Blitz's lungs. He dropped forward, braced his hands against the ground, nearly vomited the next sob as it wrenched itself out. "It--it--" Blitz choked and sobbed again, body convulsing with the force. "Stolas, it--" And he lost the thread of his words, fell apart, sobbed so loud that it seemed to echo through the warehouse. "It was--It was an accident," he gasped. Another sob. His whole body ached. His heart ached.

"I know," Stolas whispered, and Blitz sobbed again, and only when he was wishing desperately that Stolas would hug him did he realized what Stolas had asked, twice now.

Can I hug you?

Blitz lifted his head. Stolas sat on his knees still, about a foot from Blitz, a hand reached out to him and his eyes full of tears, but he hadn't bridged the gap.

The confusion that ping-ponged through Blitz almost won out over the sobs for a moment. All those times Stolas had been so extravagantly forward, and now he--

Blitz didn't think about what he was doing as he scrambled forward, propelled himself up, and when Stolas caught him, wrapped his arms around Blitz, trilled softly, the sobs won again, breaking through Blitz like waves crashing against a shore, remaking him again and again and again.

Millie's hugs were tight and warm, so hard they almost hurt. Stolas's was different. It was still firm, his arms still pressed against Blitz's sides, but he seemed to envelop Blitz, all feathers and soft fabric and that soft trilling sound that Blitz had never heard before now. Stolas's beak clicked against Blitz's horns, he trilled as Blitz sobbed, and Blitz didn't understand, he didn't understand at all, but Stolas hadn't left. He hadn't looked at Blitz like the monster he was. Hadn't understood why Blitz tried to keep him from getting too close. It was as much to protect Stolas as it was to protect Blitz.

Maybe Stolas was an idiot. But there was a desperate part of Blitz that sincerely hoped that Stolas did understand, and was staying anyway.

"I know," Stolas murmured. "I know, dearest. I'm so sorry."

Blitz didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve this.

He didn't deserve Stolas.

He knew he was supposed to be pulling away, supposed to be tucking all this pain under his mask, to try and regain a semblance of control over this clusterfuck of a day. He wasn't supposed to let Stolas see this side of him. He wasn't supposed to let Stolas see anything but the suave assassin. Because if he saw, he'd leave Blitz, like everyone else who had realized what Blitz really was under his act.

But Stolas didn't pull away. He didn't try to shift Blitz out of his arms, or make a comment about how it was really time they find the pendant, or tell Blitz that he was being dramatic. He held Blitz. He kept holding him when Blitz's sobs tapered into shaking cries, until he was just sitting there, numb and exhausted, face pressed into the collar of Stolas's cape. Stolas didn't complain about the snot and tears soaking into his fancy clothes. Stolas didn't complain about his sensitive bird joints hurting from being in one position for so long.

Stolas didn't let go.

"I don't understand," Blitz croaked.

Stolas shifted slightly, adjusting his hold on Blitz, but not moving away. "Understand what?" Stolas's voice was also rough and jagged.

Blitz lifted his head and propped his chin on Stolas's shoulder. He looked out at the warehouse. "You."

Stolas stiffened slightly. "I'm... sorry?"

Blitz sniffled loudly. "Stop apologizing," he grumbled. He let his eyes shut.

"I'm not... trying to be confusing." Stolas sounded more hesitant than Blitz had ever heard him. "I, ah, just... What are you confused about?"

Blitz turned the words over in his head.

"Why are you here?"

"What?"

Blitz sniffled again. "You heard me."

"You needed my help?" Stolas seemed as lost as Blitz felt.

"Yeah, but... why let me fuck up your cape and your feathers? Why let me act like an impling? Why stay long enough to..." Why stay at all?

"Because I care about you?"

Blitz opened his eyes.

Stolas said it like it was obvious. Like he was confused about why Blitz hadn't got with the program already. Like that was the only answer there ever had been.

"Why?" Blitz asked.

"Why do I--" Stolas's arms tightened around Blitz suddenly.

"You know what I am," Blitz said. He felt a little detached from his body now, outside of that well of grief and confusion. "Why are you still... acting like I matter?"

"You do matter."

The conviction in Stolas's voice snapped Blitz back into his body, back into the mess of feelings, and he suddenly felt anxious and terrified and hopeful and sick all at once.

"You do matter," Stolas repeated. For all the hesitation and uncertainty he'd had this whole time, Stolas now sounded like he'd never been more sure of something in his entire life. "You matter to me, and to your employees, and to your daughter. They wouldn't have called me about you being hurt if you didn't matter to them. And I wouldn't have come to help you if you didn't matter to me. You do. You always have."

My impish little plaything.

We could talk, or... watch a movie, or... maybe cuddle?

"Why?"

Stolas laughed wetly. "Why? Why not? You're funny. You're ambitious. You're determined. And reckless. And sweet. And you love horses and your daughter. You drink enough coffee to kill a rhinoceros. You don't let anything stop you."

Blitz leaned away, pulled out of Stolas's arms so that he could see his face. Blitz searched Stolas's expression, looked for any sign of mockery, of lies. Blitz knew that caring about a Goetia was a fool's game. He'd known it ever since the beginning. He'd known the moment he'd cracked under Stolas's desperation and stayed longer than he meant to.

But there was no sign of any trickery on Stolas's face. A little fear, maybe, but...

"You're... you're serious?"

Stolas's expression wobbled dangerously close to shattering like Blitz's had. "Yes." Stolas broke eye contact. "I know--I know it must be hard for you to believe that with how I've behaved--"

"Stolas."

"--and how awfully I've treated you, and I--I'm so sorry for how I've--"

"Stolas."

"--made you feel like I can't possibly--"

"Stolas."

"--care but I do, I swear I do, Blitz, I've cared for quite some time now, and I--"

Blitz put a hand over Stolas's beak. Stolas went silent, eyes wide and snapping back to Blitz.

"Why blow me off then?" Blitz demanded. "Why keep... putting off seeing me if you care?"

Stolas's brow furrowed, and he didn't speak for a moment when Blitz moved his hand away. "What do you mean, blowing you off?"

Blitz blinked at him. Stolas blinked back.

"Acting all... flaky and shit. About the full moons."

Stolas stared at him. "I was trying to give you a choice."

"We have a deal."

"Maybe I don't want to see you because of the deal." Stolas inhaled sharply. His feathers fluffed out. Blitz shrank back, his heart dropping-- "Maybe I just want to see you because you want to see me."

Blitz's spiral short-circuited. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Stolas took a deep breath. Some of his feathers settled again. "I wanted... I want..." Stolas's throat bobbed as he swallowed. "Blitz, I... I didn't want you to see me because you had to. I wanted you to come see me because you... because you wanted to."

What?

Blitz tried to replay those long-ass text messages, but all he could remember was the sinking feeling of I'm losing him he'd felt while trying to read them. But here Stolas was telling him that it had been an attempt at...

"I don't want there to be a deal." Stolas bowed his head. "I just want there to be a... an us."

Blitz's pulse crashed through his head. He could feel every nerve in his body all at once firing, felt every millimeter of bone and tendon and muscle in his body, felt every drop of blood as it rushed through his veins. His brain kept misfiring, kept trying to put Stolas's words together in a way that made sense. He didn't believe it. He couldn't. How could he? This was Stolas. This was Blitz.

"Really?" Blitz's voice was so quiet and hoarse that it was barely audible, but Stolas looked up anyway, his eyes shining, and he opened his beak--

Stolas stopped, eyes searching Blitz's face. Blitz wasn't sure what Stolas saw there. He wasn't sure about a lot of things anymore.

Stolas closed his beak. And then he nodded.

Blitz didn't manage to stop the tears. He didn't sob, but they rushed up to his eyes anyway, and Blitz let them. Let Stolas see. Apparently he wanted to stay anyway.

Stolas cupped Blitz's unscarred cheek. His thumb wiped away tears, smearing them across Blitz's skin. "Dearest, why are you crying?" Stolas asked. He sounded genuinely confused.

Like he couldn't understand why Blitz had so much trouble believing him.

Blitz stared up at him. He didn't have any words left.

Stolas sniffled and began to pull his hand away. Blitz's shot up and cupped Stolas's hand, keeping it against his face. Both of them froze, deer in the headlights, startled by each other.

Blitz didn't know what the fuck he was doing. He blinked a few times, let the tears run, squeezed Stolas's hand. This was real. Stolas was real.

"I..." Blitz felt like an engine out of gas, sputtering and desperately trying to make it the last few miles to the gas station.

Stolas kept watching him.

Blitz shut his eyes. He couldn't focus with Stolas's stupid bird eyes staring at him like that.

"I want that, too."

"Want wh--" Stolas's voice broke off into a squawk as he realized what Blitz meant, and when Blitz opened his eyes, Stolas had puffed up again. His eyes were so wide now that they seemed to crowd his face. And he was staring at Blitz now like he was the one who couldn't believe Blitz.

Blitz grimaced and looked away. He nodded. Stolas's hand turned Blitz's face back, and Blitz had to look at him, had to see the disbelief, the shock, the little hearts Stolas's pupils had turned into.

Stolas gaped at him. "Can I--Can I kiss you?"

Blitz swallowed. "Can it wait until I don't taste like vomit?" he asked, trying for a smile, and Stolas squealed and hugged Blitz so hard that Blitz yelped. It was over as quickly as it began. Stolas grinned, feathers continuing to fluff, turning that radiant smile on Blitz. Blitz felt starstruck. He'd thought Stolas had been happy before, when they had the deal, but he had never seen this smile.

He didn't even remember why they were here until Stolas had summoned the book between them and a compass was glowing in his hand. Only when the needle stilled did Blitz remember and scramble to his feet. Stolas followed him, leaving the book and holding the compass in one hand, then led Blitz through the warehouse.

Blitz spotted it before Stolas and bounded forward, diving through a grid of conveyor belts and crashing into the boxes. His hands wrapped around the pendant and he tumbled to the ground, curling around it. He held it to his chest, then pulled it away to look at it, sitting on the ground.

Stolas crouched beside him, and Blitz looked up at him, feeling raw and exposed and yet... good?

"Thank you," Blitz breathed.

Stolas's gaze was soft. "Always."

"Hey, boys!" Millie's voice echoed through the warehouse. "We got company!"

Stolas picked up Blitz without warning and swept a hand. Millie, Moxxie, and Millie's axe came toward them, each in their own sparkling ball of light. Millie laughed, Moxxie shrieked, and Stolas waved his hand again. His grimoire appeared beside them and a portal opened. Stolas set Millie and Moxxie down. "My apologies," he said, even though he was smiling like a maniac. "I think it is prudent that we leave this place."

"Couldn't agree more, Your Highness!" Millie hopped up and snatched her axe out of the air, then paused at the edge of the portal to eye Blitz and Stolas.

Stolas smiled. "Call me Stolas, please."

Millie grinned back and bounded through the portal. Moxxie followed, and then Stolas, with Blitz.

The portal closed.