Breathe, Keep Breathing (I Can’t Do This Alone)

by DanTheMan01

Summary:

Moxxie is holding his hands with uncertainty, not sure how to address the situation. It just makes Stolas want to curl up and pretend none of this is real. Blitz couldn’t be hurt, he was Blitz.

He had watched that man escape deadly situations; he had been shot countless times and walked it off like it was nothing. As far as he was concerned, Blitz was more indestructible than him.

He couldn’t be hurt. They had a date.

Or, Blitz is badly injured on a mission. Stolas doesn't know how to deal with it.

Notes:

Hello everybody!!!

One of my favorite tropes is near-death experiences, despite how cliché it is. And at this point in Helluva Boss, despite getting shot and possessed and so many other injuries, we NEVER see Blitz get actually hurt.

Well, I wanted to change that because angst and Stolitz

Chapter 1: One

Summary:

Bang.

 

For a second, he thought it was a false alarm, a slip of the finger, before he registered the warm blood pooling from his chest, right below his beating heart. He falls to the floor, crumpled in front of the man’s feet.

Blitz curls up on himself, trying to put pressure on the wound. No, he couldn’t just die. Not now, not when he finally wanted to live.

Notes:

Hello everyone! Welcome to chapter one!!

For reference: This fic IS connected to the others in this series, although you don't technically have to read them to understand anything. All you need to know is that Stolitz has NOT made their relationship official yet, Blitz knows that Millie is pregnant, and Stolas knows about the fire.

I also want to start this by saying that there are probably MANY inaccuracies when it comes to medical things. I HATE talking/hearing about anything medical related (it makes my skin crawl) so I'm kinda bullshitting it.

But hey, uh, Blitz is a demon, not a human, so I make the rules!

Anyways, enjoy :)

It was supposed to be a good day. 

Blitz had the whole day planned out weeks ago. He’d do a simple job, make it home after lunch, take Stolas out to dinner for their first official “make up date”, and probably watch one of the owls' shitty romcoms at the end of the night. It was supposed to be perfect.

Not that anything ever seemed to go his way. 

Still, he had hoped just this once the universe would let him have one nice thing, just one thing.

The mission wasn’t supposed to be hard; it really wasn’t, but of course, the client forgot to mention that the target wasn’t going to be alone, despite Blitz repetitively asking. The fucker had sent them in to a death trap.

He hadn’t realized until he had already shot the target in the head, cheering, maybe even bragging about how easy the job was, Moxxie and Millie rolling their eyes fondly. 

“Alright, fam, let’s head back—”

The imp’s words were interrupted by Loona shushing him, raising her head up, ears twitching atop her head. 

“Shut up, Dad!” She snapped. “We aren’t alone.”

“Christ on a stick,” He groans in response, untucking his gun. “Alright assholes, funs up.”

A bullet shoots from behind him, he ducks just in time to keep it from blowing his head straight off.

“Shit!” He curses, turning to the other three. “Everyone alright?”

He receives a collective positive, which is a relief. He turns on his feet, scanning the room. Finally, he sees the guy hiding in the corner, dressed in all black, trying to blend in.

“You’re from Hell,” The man whispers, disbelief written all over his face.

“Wow, we got a real fuckin’ Showlocky here!”

“It’s Sherlock, sir.”

“Moxxie, I will fucking—”

“Enough!” The man, who couldn’t be older than 20-something, yells. Holding his gun in a trembling hand. “We was hired by the government to find you hell creatures! You fell right into our trap!”

Blitz groans. Fuck, these idiots were working with those two government morons who had been a pain in his asscrack for months now. Wonderful.

“Listen, kid. You’ve got no fucking clue what you’re dealing with here, ‘kay? So why don’t you fuck off and—”

Blitz is once again rudely interrupted, this time by another guy swooping in from behind and taking hold of the others, forcing them away from Blitz. The imp instantly hisses, finger right over the trigger as he stares at the two humans.

“Drop the weapon, walk over, and gimme me that crystal.” The first guy says, his voice barely shaking this time around.

Blitz glares, his body deadly still as he takes in every detail about the situation.

Loona’s ears are pinned back, her teeth bared as one of the guys holds her down. Her eyes are full of determination, and he’s sure he’s seen them looking back at him in the mirror. Despite the situation, he wasn’t afraid for her. His daughter had proven time and time again how capable she was.

Moxxie is staring at him, fear in his eyes—he looks a bit too similar to that lost kid he met in jail all those years ago. The younger imp had barely been in his twenties when they met. Blitz had given him a chance because there was no fucking way he could just leave him there, he knew what it was like. Besides, Moxxie had proven himself useful almost instantly.

Millie is looking at him with a similar look, but there’s a fear in her eyes that he’s never seen before. She has one hand over her stomach. 

Shit. Shit shit shit. 

He had let her come on this one mission because it was supposed to be quick and easy. He was so fucking stupid. He should’ve known better. 

He couldn’t be responsible for any of his loved ones dying, not again, especially not the innocent baby of his two best friends. 

Slowly, he lowers his gun onto the ground.

“Let them go.” He growls, holding eye contact with the bigger of the two. The young men share a look, and Blitz takes the opportunity while he can, surging forward and sweeping his tail under the one holding M&M, causing him to smash onto the floor, cracking the back of his head against the concrete.

“Fuck!” The second guy releases Loona in his shock, who quickly rushes over to stand by her father. The man’s anger is palpable as he stares down at the imps. “You’re gonna fucking die for that!”

Blitz stands unflinchingly in front of his family, tail slashing protectively as he stands, a barrier between them and the threat, just as a good leader should. He’d rather lay his life down than ever allow harm to come to any of them. He had already failed to protect too many people before, he had to save them.

Millie, Moxxie, and Loona were the first ones he had allowed himself to love after the fire. He would be damned if he let them come to the same fate as his mother, not if he could save them.

As he watches the fucker reload his gun, Blitz leaps forward, his gun was too far for him to risk reaching, so he did the next best option. He attacks with his bare hands, hoping he can catch the asshole by surprise. For a moment, he thinks he’s successful in his attempt as the man does nothing but look at him.

Bang.

For a second, he thought it was a false alarm, a slip of the finger, before he registered the warm blood pooling from his chest, right below his beating heart. He falls to the floor, crumpled in front of the man’s feet. 

Blitz curls up on himself, trying to put pressure on the wound. No, he couldn’t just die. Not now, not when he finally wanted to live. 

Everything around him fades, the world growing fuzzy. He hears more shots fired above him, he hears the culprit choke on his own blood beside him. He hears Millie screaming and Moxxie panicking and swearing. He feels himself being lifted and pressed against a warm chest, fur tickling his head.

“...ad…dad…DAD!” 

He coughs as blood trickles down the side of his mouth, eyes unfocused as he clutches onto his daughter's fur. He can’t die here. He can’t leave her alone. He can’t leave Stolas alone; he promised .

“S…Stolas…” He whispers, eyelids sagging as his body goes slack, the world going dark around him.

 

---

 

Stolas was looking forward to this afternoon. Blitz had been very mysterious about this “surprise” he had planned for him, the owl's mind running wild with ideas that the imp could have planned.

Before Blitz left to go on the mission, he flashed that sweet smile that Stolas was still getting used to. 

“Be ready for our date, birdie.”

Before Stolas could stutter out a response, the portal had closed. That dickhead. He knew just what he was doing. The owl bites his cheek, grateful he’s alone, as a wild blush surely paints his cheeks, his heart pounding against his chest.

Date.

Blitz had called it a date, not a “hang out” or a “day trip.”

Oh, Satan, Stolas was going on a date with Blitz .

After all these months working for I.M.P and slowly adjusting to this new life, Stolas had never once really entertained the idea that Blitz returned his feelings. That, of course, hadn’t made Stolas’ fade. Even in the worst of his depression, his heart stayed beating for the sake of that man. He took every breath because he knew he couldn’t leave Blitz alone, not after everything the imp had done for him.

He stands from his desk, pacing back and forth. A date. He wanted to be excited, but the voice in the back of his head, which sounded a lot like Octavia, refused to let him give in to happiness.

What kind of father would that make him? He would only be proving Octavia right if he let himself be happy. He didn’t deserve to be happy. He deserved to suffer, he deserved to pay for breaking his daughter's precious trust in him.

Stolas inhales sharply, shaking those thoughts away. Blitz was trying to do something nice for him; the least he could do was be engaged with the imp.

It scared him, though, the thought of going on a date with Blitz. Their first—and only—one hadn’t been a pleasant experience, to say the least. The words Blitz had spat at him after driving the former prince home still bounced in his head late at night. Those moments where he would be lying on the couch, unable to let rest take him, and his eyes would drift to the imp curled up on the beanbag. 

He hadn’t understood before why Blitz would ever think he was only using him, that he didn’t care . For months, he had no idea why the imp reacted the way he did when he gave him the crystal. 

“My impish little plaything.”

“My little imp”

“Oh, Blitzy~”

He shivers as those words play back in his head. He had been such a fool. Of course Blitz had seen him as nothing more than a careless rich asshole only using him to get dick. That was all he had shown.

Stolas spent so long alone, so long having the only love shown to him be the kind found between pages and movie screens. He had never known true romantic love.

Everything he had ever said to Blitz, he had thought, came across as flirtatious; he thought he was being romantic. Instead, all he did was make the imp feel like he was nothing more than a toy.

He was a fucking monster.

He shakes the thoughts away. Despite all that had happened, Blitz had told him time and time again that he needed to learn to forgive himself. It seemed impossible, but the imp had made it rather clear that he did not appreciate Stolas’ negative self-talk.

“You’re too fuckin’ hard on yourself, Stols. We both fucked up. Simple at that.”

But it wasn’t as simple as that, and they both knew it. Stolas wasn’t sure how much longer they could dance around the topic.

He sighs, staring up at the ceiling. Blitz had given him zero information about their date, he had no idea how to dress for the occasion. He hardly had any clothes to begin with, so he couldn’t really be too picky. Would Blitz care what he wore? What was Blitz wearing?

Suddenly, he hears a portal opening behind him as he spins around in his chair.

“Oh, Blitz! You’re back!” He squeaks, turning around. He expects to see the imp standing there with that wild, adrenaline-filled look in his eye that he always got after a kill. 

Yet, instead of seeing the face of the man he loves, he’s met with a bloodied and panicked Millie, her eyes full of fear—a look Stolas was sure he had never seen on her before.

“He’s hurt.”

Stolas’ blood runs cold. In a moment, all his thoughts about his outfit vanish into thin air, his hands fidgeting at his side.

“Wh…”

Before he can get his question out, two more figures walk through the portal. Loona is cradling her father's limp body in her arms, her ears pinned to the side of her head, a wild look in her eyes. The entire front of her shirt was drenched in black, the same black that was painted on Blitz’s skin, his jacket ripped and torn.

Moxxie follows right behind her, gun in hand, shooting wildly, his tail lashing in a way Stolas recognized. Blitz did it when he was feeling especially protective, it was an attempt for imps to look more intimidating.

“Close it!” Loona yells, her attention focused only on Milie, who Stolas now realized was holding the crystal, closing the portal behind Moxxie. There is a collective breath of relief from the three, Loona pulling her father close to her body as she checks for his pulse.

“Fucking–...shit…we need to get him to the hospital.”

“I’ll drive!” Millie quickly volunteers, grabbing the van keys off the desk and racing to start the car. Meanwhile, Loona manages to wiggle Blitz’s jacket off, tying it around the wound tightly, before she follows.

Stolas stands frozen in place, the image of Blitz’s body, lifeless and dull, filling his mind. He hears an echo calling his name, the voice hardly registering.

“Satan’s sake, Stolas !” Moxxie was standing on the desk to be height level with the former prince, his claws lightly digging into the owl’s shoulders to snap him out of the trance. “You can have a panic attack in the fucking van, okay? He needs us to be strong right now.”

“I-...”

“I’m scared, too,” Moxxie interrupts. Stolas realizes now he can feel the small imp's hand trembling on his shoulder. “But right now, we need to be strong. Until he’s safe, now, come on. He’ll want you there, and he’s going to wake up, and we can all yell at him, and it’ll be okay, alright? Now go!”

Stolas manages to move his legs, his body feeling numb as Moxxie all but drags him outside to the van. 

He crawls into the back, sliding into the middle without a second thought, needing to be as close to his dearest as possible. 

The former prince reaches out, tracing the imp's familiar, delicate skin with his talons, so careful as to not hurt him. He holds his hand out in front of his mouth, feeling the faint but clear exhale against his palm.

He’s alive. The thought itself almost brought him to tears.

“We were ambushed,” Stolas can absentmindedly hear Moxxie explaining over the ringing in his ears, his hands trembling uncontrollably as they reach out to cradle Blitz’s face, despite the shaking of the van. When had they started moving?

He closes his eyes, focusing all of his strength, as if just for this moment, his powers would return to him to allow him to finally be of use, but of course, nothing happens. Moxxie reaches over as he sees Stolas’ defeatedly pull away, placing his hand on the former prince's back.

“He was protecting us,” Millie says from the front, her voice full of confidence that Stolas is sure she doesn’t have right now. “So he’ll be okay, ‘cause he knows we’ll be mad at him if he ain’t.”

Stolas knows that they’re both trying to comfort him, but all he can focus on is the shallow, hardly existent breaths Blitz is taking, his form looking so small curled up in the backseat beside him. 

This wasn’t right.

The thought kept creeping into his mind, his talons clenched into his palms tight enough that he’s sure it’s drawing blood. Although as he gazes down, he can’t tell the difference between his blood and that of the man beside him.

“He doesn’t like hospitals.” Stolas croaks. It’s the first thing he’s said since Moxxie dragged him into the van, yet somehow it seems so important.

Blitz had told him about the fire a few weeks ago. He had broken down in Stolas’ arms and sobbed himself dry, allowing Stolas to see a side of him he never thought he would have the honor to know. He didn’t care about the snot on his shoulder that night; all he had cared about was keeping the man he loved safe against his chest. 

He remembers how he had whispered over and over again how it wasn’t Blitz’s fault through his own tears, hating the man’s father for ever allowing that child to believe that tragic accident was his doing.

That’s just what it was, an accident. Blitz was just a kid. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he carried so much grief, pain locked deep inside his heart because of a clumsy mistake when he was a teenager. Yet, it seemed that’s how life went, even to the kindest of souls.

That night, Stolas had held Blitz tightly until the sun rose, clutching him tightly against his chest, not once allowing himself to drift off to sleep, his mind too busy trying to work out the story it had been told.

There was one thing Stolas was sure of. If he ever met Blitz’s father, he would shoot him where he stood.

The former prince didn’t consider himself to be a violent man; if he was honest, the thought of physically harming another being made him sick to his stomach. That didn’t seem to apply to the monster who had left the man he loved so sure no one would ever love him.

Blitz was his shining star, his guiding light. Without Blitz by his side, he was sure he would have never survived this. He would’ve been dead the moment he had been cast aside, helpless on the streets, hated by all of hell. Blitz had taken him in, Blitz had sheltered him and protected him, he had clutched him close through all the breakdowns, when he was too numb to even exist properly, Blitz had just stayed with him. Even when Stolas knew he was being difficult, the imp had kept his patience and held him close.

He didn’t know what he did to deserve this version of Blitz, but he wouldn’t give it up for the universe. So the idea of it being taken away from him scared him more than anything in the world.

Eventually, they pulled up to the hospital. Stolas hadn’t even realized they had been in the van long enough to make it to the Sloth ring. He freezes as he looks at the entrance, his breath catching in his throat as he recognizes this entrance. He remembers being rushed in here, barely conscious, thinking he would never open his eyes again.

To be here again, this time even more terrified as he watched Loona race in with Blitz limp in her arms, made his heart pound in his chest. He couldn’t move, his body glued to the seat as he watched Loona disappear.

“Stolas, hon, you’re shaking.” Millie was in front of him now, her hands resting on his knee.

“I-...I don’t…” He gazes back at the door. His heart lurches, beating wildly in his chest. His talons gripped his arms, tearing at his feathers. He feels a pair of hands on his, stopping him.

For a moment, he thinks it’s Blitz, that he imagined all of this and Blitz was just fine, but these hands were softer and smaller than the ones he was used to; they bore no scars blazed from the wildness of fire.

Moxxie is holding his hands with uncertainty, not sure how to address the situation. It just makes Stolas want to curl up and pretend none of this is real. Blitz couldn’t be hurt, he was Blitz.

He had watched that man escape deadly situations; he had been shot countless times and walked it off like it was nothing. As far as he was concerned, Blitz was more indestructible than he was.

He couldn’t be hurt. They had a date.

“C’mon, just come inside. He’s going to get help, it’ll be okay.”

Stolas looks at the hospital entrance, swallowing. Since his powers were taken and he had been forced to live the life of a typical demon living in hell, he had become so much more aware of how valuable money is, and even more aware of how little Blitz had.

A hospital bill wasn’t cheap. He had looked at his when he was released after Striker’s attack. It hadn’t put a dent in his immense amount of money, of course. At the time, he had hardly given it a second glance.

Now, though, the thought made him sick to his stomach. 

Blitz had been working so hard to save enough money to get a bigger apartment for the three of them. Stolas had watched him tuck away money with pride, saying how he was going to get Stolas off the shitty couch and into a giant bed where he belonged.

Stolas was excited, too. He had gotten used to the apartment with all its quirks, but it was quite small for three people. An upgrade would be nice. He missed his palace, but he was beginning to realize he hadn’t liked having all that space, not when he had no one to share it with.

He closes his eyes, shoulders slumping. If he still had his status, he could pay for this with the snap of his fingers without it costing Blitz a penny. 

The former prince slowly rises to his feet, maneuvering his long limbs out of the van, nearly falling over from the spreading pain in his legs. It seemed sitting hunched over in the back of a van with his legs tucked unnaturally wasn’t the best position for him.

A few feet ahead of him, he sees a small, red ball-shaped object lying on the pavement. He recognizes it instantly, figuring that it must have fallen in all the chaos. He practically throws himself forward to grab it, as if he’s afraid the wind’ll blow it away.

He holds it close to his chest. He knew now what this necklace meant to Blitz, he knew why the imp never took it off, and he knew why he cherished it so closely to his heart. It was the only physical reminder of his mother he had left.

Stolas had to keep it safe for him.

Millie and Moxxie come up next to him, Moxxie’s hands on his back while Millie helps him rise to his feet. They’re being so gentle with him while they’re the ones tainted in their boss' blood. 

They walk into the hospital, greeted by the screams of injured sinners and cries of infants going in for shots. Loona is already waiting, her arms wrapped around herself.

Stolas had never seen her look so small. Loona was so much like her father; she was always holding herself with such confidence, like nothing could ever shake her, trying to appear as if she didn’t care about anyone.

As he looked at her now, he saw what Blitz must have first seen in her. He sees a scared girl yearning for love, now terrified to lose the first person to ever show her that affection.

“Loona,” Millie greets softly, putting her hand on the girl's arm. “What happened?”

The hellhound clears her throat. “They took him back for surgery, said it was good we got here when we did. He’s in bad shape.”

Stolas swallows, watching the two imps and the hellhound, suddenly feeling beyond out of place without Blitz.

“So we just…wait?” Moxxie asks, his voice quiet.

Loona nods, hugging herself. “I…I guess.”

Oh, this was going to be a long, long day.

 

---

 

It shouldn’t be taking this long.

The thought bounced around in Stolas’ head as he stared ahead at the doors, as if he was waiting for Blitz to walk through with a smile, laughing at them all for worrying so much.

Oh, what Stolas would give to hear that laugh right now.

They sit there for a while until Stolas can’t take it. None of them had been told any information, and it had been hours. How did the surgery go? Was Blitz okay? Was he alive? He marches over to the main desk, trying to act confident, like he had seen Blitz do in the past.

Blitz always managed to present himself as if he knew everything, facing every situation without fear. Stolas could do the same.

The woman, an old succubus, hardly glances up at him before she speaks. “Can I help you?”

The former prince swallows. “The man brought in here earlier…I’d like to see him. If possible.”

“What’s the patient's name?” The receptionist asked, a bored expression playing on her face.

“Blitz…” Stolas whispers, closing his eyes. “Blitzo.”

He hopes Blitz will forgive him for using the silent O; he doesn’t have much choice here.

“Last name?”

Stolas’ throat goes dry, head spinning as he struggles to recall the imp's last name. He’s sure he knows it, that he’s seen it, yet the word is lost on his tongue. His breathing picks up, he needs to see Blitz. He needs him. “I-...I don’t…I…”

“Blitzo Buckzo,” Loona interrupts, walking over to the desk, placing her paw on Stolas’ shoulder as she glares at the receptionist. “He’s my dad. Let us see him. Now .”

The lady behind the counter looks at the two of them, her gaze shifting over to the other two imps still sitting in the chair before she rolls her eyes, scrolling through her computer. “Latest report says Mr. Buckzo is out of surgery, but is in bad shape. Only immediate family can visit.”

Stolas deflates, his heart pounding in his chest. “Please, madam, there has to be a way…”

The woman only rolls his eyes. “Unless you're his father, sister, or his daughter, you ain’t entering. Lookin’ at his medical files, that's all the family he’s got.”

The former prince feels sick. This wasn’t fair. He needed to see Blitz. He needed to hold him. Blitz would be scared when he woke up, he needed to be there. He feels Loona’s gaze, her ears lowered in empathy for him.

Moxxie steps forward, standing on his tippy toes beside Stolas. “Please, ma’am. Biological or not, we’re the only family he has.”

The succubus has the nerve to look annoyed. “That ain’t my problem. Rules are rules.”

Stolas backs away from the desk, clutching his hand to his chest, feeling the rapid pounding against his long fingers, the world going blurry around him. He feels like he’s dying. The man he loves is suffering, and he can’t even go in to see the condition he’s in.

He feels two hands pressing against his shoulder, forcing him to snap his gaze to look at them. When he manages to focus enough to make out who it is, he sees Loona’s concerned red and white eyes looking at him. 

“Listen, bird brain.” Oh, Satan, he nearly cries at those words alone. This wonderful young woman was so similar to her father, it made him ache. “I’ll call you when I’m in there, that way you can see him until these assholes let you all in, okay?”

He nods, trying and failing to catch his breath. 

Blitz. He needs Blitz. He needs to feel those warm arms pressing him close, to feel those rough hands that had caused so much death cradle his face with all the care in the world. He wants to see those beautiful gold eyes staring up at him with that lovey-dovey look Blitz got when he thought Stolas wasn’t looking.

Stolas would always be in love with Blitz. He had been since they first met as children, and no matter where life took them, those feelings never shrank. Somehow, somewhere, Blitz started to return those feelings. He had no idea when, but it was true. He was sure of it.

Blitz couldn’t die; there was so much they needed to talk about.

He feels himself being guided to the side, two pairs of hands pinning him down into a chair. All he can see is Loona slowly being escorted down the hall to see her father, away from him. 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair .

At least Blitz won’t be alone.

The thought brings him some comfort, but more than anything, he feels selfish for wishing it could be him.

Millie and Moxxie sit on opposite sides of him, holding him together while they await Loona’s call. Stolas can feel the judgmental looks from the demons around him, those who have surely heard his name before. Those who hate him for the blood running through his veins.

He doesn’t blame them. He hates himself too, he hates who that version of him he had been. That naive prince who had no idea what working was like, who had no idea how to do anything for himself, even cooking a simple meal. 

He avoids everyone’s gaze, just staring down at his newly acquired phone. Blitz had surprised him with it after his first full week of work. It had been so challenging dragging himself off the couch each morning after Sinsmas, and of course, Blitz had been nothing but patient and kind with him. Stolas would be lying if he said he hadn’t shed a tear or two when Blitz proudly presented him with the small device.

It was cheap, it hardly held a charge, the screen was too small for his lanky fingers, yet it was one of the most thoughtful gifts he’d ever received. One day, he would find a way to pay Blitz back for all the kindness he had shown him; for now, all he could do was hope the imp knew how much he appreciated it. 

Loona holds true to her promise. Only five minutes after she disappeared down the hallway, Stolas’ phone lights up with her contact photo. He takes a deep breath before accepting the video call.

He hadn’t really gotten a good look at Blitz earlier, he had no idea what to expect.

It was worse than he imagined. 

Blitz is lying on the hospital bed, IVs pushed into his pale, red skin, his breaths labored and small, face scrunched up in pain despite not being awake. His body looks tiny in the hospital gown, a large bandage poking out underneath, wrapped around his chest. 

The sight alone is enough to break whatever stability Stolas had been holding onto. 

There, in the middle of the hospital waiting room, the prince breaks down, desperate, heart-wrenching wails escaping him. An icy cold wave of fear crashed down on him, the kind he hadn’t felt since he saw the news stream for the trial, the fear that came when he thought he was going to lose the man he loved more than life itself.

“Stolas…” He hears Millie whisper, her voice so gentle, so full of pity.

He doesn’t want pity, he wants Blitz.

He gasps for breath, the world twisting and spinning around him, heaved breaths escaping him as he struggles to find oxygen, feeling as though his entire world is caving in. He had already lost Via, he couldn’t lose Blitz, too. He wouldn’t survive it. His soul was not meant to exist without Blitz by his side.

He feels two pairs of arms wrapped around his back, holding him together. He doesn’t try to shake them off, but also doesn’t allow himself the comfort of leaning into their embraces. 

Instead, he clutches onto the red skull pendant with all the strength his shaky talons possess, feeling his tears slide down his feathered face and watching as they drip onto the shiny surface.

“Please, be okay,” He whimpers, as if Blitz’s soul could hear his words and find the will to hold on just for him. “Please, please . I can’t do this without you… please …”

There’s no response.

Notes:

I hope you all liked it!

Chapter two is coming very soon :D

Leave a comment if you enjoyed!! They make my day

Chapter 2: Two

Notes:

Hi guys!!

I am SO sorry for the wait. Life got busy and stressful and bleh

I hope you enjoy regardless

The world was dark.

He stood in an infinite void of darkness, not even the stars around to keep him company. It was fair, he supposed, he had lost them too, along with everything else. Yet, they tease him, staying close enough to watch, yet too far out of his reach to hold, disconnected for the next century. 

Their loss didn’t compare to the pain currently brewing within him. For he realized he wasn’t completely alone in this empty realm. Ahead of him, he could see a small figure curled into a ball, a tail twitching in a way even his subconscious knew.

His legs move without him telling them to, yet as he pushes, Blitz doesn’t get any closer. His talons dig into the cool ground, his heart pounding wildly against his ribs. He stretches his hand out, desperation filling his entire being.

Not again. Not again. He couldn’t lose him, not again.

Another figure emerges from the shadows, a faceless being circling the man Stolas loves, holding a blade against the imp's neck. He tries to cry out, to protest, to scream at them to stop, but all that comes out of his mouth is a suffocating whimper.

The figure's head snaps over to him, an evil smile coming across their face. They use the blade, slashing it across Blitz’s neck. Stolas watches helplessly as the imp falls to the side with a scream, blood pooling down on the ground next to him, staining those beautiful horns with a coat of despair.

Stolas has never felt pain like this before.

“You thought you could save him?” The figure walks toward him, the face shifting as they get closer to Stolas. A flash of faces registers in Stolas’ mind as the figure gets closer. 

Andrealpehus, Stella, Striker…so many cruel, awful beings who all held such unfair biases for the imp. Stolas did not doubt that they would hurt Blitz simply to get to him. They would do anything to make his life hell, even take away the only man he had ever loved.

The figure slips past him, the three beings splitting into separate entities. They glare at him, their eyes blazing with rage, their mouths open as haunting cackles left their lips, ringing against Stolas’ pounding head.

He’s frozen still, broken cries escaping his beak as he reaches out for the imp, who was now lying frozen ahead of him. As the three monsters around him finally fade into the background, the invisible chains tying Stolas to his spot finally break free.

He falls forward, knees giving out as he stares at the imp. He crawls forward, gathering all the energy he has. Finally, after an agonizingly long time, he reaches the imp.

He gathers Blitz up in his arms, seeing those familiar eyes glazed over, hardly hanging onto consciousness, how Blitz is even breathing still, he has no idea. The imp's face scrunches up in agony, his gaze shifting to a cold look Stolas hasn’t seen in months. There’s a mix of betrayal and hatred swirling in there as he looks up at the former prince.

“Why didn’t you save me?”

Blitz's appearance shifts in his arms, wires and cords appearing over his body, an IV draping down from his nostrils, snaking into nowhere. Stolas feels a warm liquid spread on his fingers. When he looks down, he can see a hole in Blitz’s chest.

He screams, trying to apply pressure, to call for help, to do something. 

Blitz’s eyes roll back into his head, his body going slack before slipping away between Stolas’ fingers, leaving the owl grasping at nothing but air.

“This is your fault.” A voice echoes from somewhere behind him. “It’s all your fault .”

Stolas tries to reach for him, searching the ground with his fingers as the room shifts around him, the darkness engulfing him as he kneels alone, crumpled on the floor, tears racing down his face, his screams heard by no one.

“BLITZ!”

 

---

 

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

The hospital waiting chairs weren’t particularly comfortable; his back was screaming at him, and his neck ached unbearably. It made the couch in Blitz’s apartment seem comfortable.

He pants, clutching a hand to his chest, digging into his sweater. He can feel his heart pounding wildly against his ribs, his entire body trembling.

“Stolas!” There’s a voice in his ears, a gentle hand on his shoulder, grounding him. “Honey, breathe. You were havin’ a nightmare, it’s over. You’re alright.”

“B-...Blitz…” He whispers, his voice hoarse and broken. He can feel tears brimming in his eyes, his body trembling. He feels ashamed as he sees the concern in Millie’s eyes, her face scrunched up with a mix of worry and understanding. He struggles to catch his breath, sniffling.

“It felt so real,” He chokes out.

“I know, hon. You were screamin’...”

He squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m…sorry I woke you, Millie.”

“I was already awake, don’t you worry about it, sweetie.”

Stolas exhales shakily, trying to regain his composure. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees Blitz’s pale, unresponsive face staring back at him, his chest soaked in blood. Even while his eyes are open, the hospital walls around him hold little comfort. They’re nothing but a constant reminder of the truth his dream held.

If you weren’t powerless, you could have healed him. You could have prevented this.

He sniffles, wiping his face down, scrubbing away any tears that have fallen loose. It was just a dream, Blitz was alive.

He couldn’t break down over a dream, not when that nightmare was currently his reality.

He feels a weight on his shoulder. He turns his head to the side, trying to control his breathing. He relaxes slightly as he notices Moxxie’s head lolled against him, the imp fast asleep. The imp's tail is still.

Blitz’s tail is never still. It’s always moving, always twitching.

Millie keeps her hand on his shoulder, stroking gently, trying to calm him. He inhales again, closing his eyes, trying to ground himself. He nods after a minute, trying to smile, although he’s sure it looks forced. He’s not sure it’s possible to genuinely smile when the light of his life was on death's door.

He’s tempted to close his eyes again, to give in to the calling of sleep, his body beyond exhausted as it tries to fight off the anxiety. He hears footsteps approaching. It’s an older-looking Hellborn; he has gentle eyes and is holding a clipboard.

“You are all here for Blitzo Buckzo, correct?”

“Blitz,” Stolas corrects before even realizing he opened his mouth. “He-...the O is silent.”

The doctor nods politely, seeming to make a note of this on his clipboard. “My apologies. You three are here for Blitz?”

Stolas nods, he’s sure he looks a mess; a terrified, tired, desperate mess. The doctor doesn’t seem to have any judgment in his gaze when he looks between the three, even with Moxxie ungracefully slumped against Stolas in his sleep.

“I’ve been sent to let you know that Mr. Buckzo is in stable enough condition that we feel visitors can enter…”

The former prince shoots up to his feet before the doctor finishes, only distantly aware of the screech Moxxie lets out when he’s thrown out of his sleep.

Stolas feels lightheaded from the overall lack of food and water he’s had in the past 24 hours, his feathers are a mess, and his legs tremble beneath him, but he doesn’t care. He can’t care about stupid things like that when Blitz was finally in reach again.

He races from the halls, desperately searching for the room Loona had earlier told him Blitz resided in. He finds it after a minute, the name Buckzo written above the door.

He takes a long, deep breath before opening the door. He can hear the footsteps of Millie and Moxxie behind him as they struggle to catch up to him. He doesn’t stop to wait for them, his mind in overdrive.

Get to Blitz. Get to Blitz. Get to Blitz.

The moment he lays his eyes on Blitz, his knees give out below him. Half from the exhaustion clouding his mind, but more so from the pure relief to see him alive, despite the awful shape the imp was in, he was alive. He was okay. He would be okay. 

Blitz is lying there so helplessly, his eyes shut as he rests, his chest rising and falling with every labored breath. His hands are pressed against his side, his face scrunching up in discomfort.

Stolas feels the tears sprouting against his will. He hates this. He hates seeing the strongest man he has ever known look so small . It wasn’t right.

The owl bows his head, leaning over as he gasps for breath, hugging himself tightly, hardly feeling the pressure of his claws digging into his forearms over the numbness coursing through his body.

He can distantly hear himself mumbling, repeating Blitz’s name like a prayer. His eyes are glued to Blitz’s face despite the pain it causes to his heart. He watches Blitz’s chest rise and fall through his tears. It’s hardly visible through the layers of bandages and blankets.

Footsteps rattle behind him, two voices overlapping. He’s absentmindedly aware that they’re probably talking to him, but all he can focus on is trying to see Blitz’s thin, uneven breaths; to have some reassurance that he’s still alive.

A hand rests on his shoulder, a loose pair of claws digging into his scarred shoulder, trying to gain his attention.

“Stolas, breathe.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, the former prince registers Moxxie’s voice. He quickly wrangles his way out of his touch, forcing his frozen body forward, desperate to reach Blitz. He couldn’t be too late.

Flashes of his nightmare haunt his mind. This is your fault. This is your fault.

He crawls to the side of the bed, grasping onto the thin hospital sheets with all his strength, his eyes watering as the tears begging to break free finally fall. He rests his head on the mattress, reaching his hand out weakly, letting it fall just inches from Blitz’s still form.

He gains the courage to reach out. Blitz’s hands are curled up into fists, Stolas manages to pry his fingers away. He slowly curls his long talons around Blitz’s wrist, sliding them up to rest their palms together. Blitz’s skin is cold to the touch.

It wasn’t right. Despite what one might think, Blitz never felt cold. He was always warm .

He hates seeing the imp like this. Blitz was always so lively, so strong. He never lets anything get to him, even during the few times Stolas had seen him injured, Blitz had always walked it off.

How could it be that he was lying, bruised and scarred, in a hospital bed? It didn’t make sense.

Stolas wanted nothing more than to crawl into the small bed with the imp, to curl around him, to cradle him against his chest and protect him from all the pain in the world.

He hears someone come and stand behind him. He expects Moxxie, or maybe Millie, but this hand is lined with fur, retracted claws pressed against him, gripping just enough to ground him. He doesn’t lift his head, keeping his cheek pressed against the side of the mattress, his tear-filled eyes glued on the face of the man he loves.

Something drags up behind him, and the hand on his shoulder tries to pull him away from the bed. He panics instantly, trying to escape the grasp of the monster trying to pull him away. He couldn’t leave Blitz alone, he had to stay by his side. Blitz needed him to be there. He couldn’t let someone hurt him.

“ Stolas !” Oh, he knew that voice…it was just Loona. Her tone is somehow both gentle and annoyed at the same time. “You’re going to fucking kill your knees and your back like this, idiot. Sit the fuck down.”

She hauls him up to his feet, disregarding the involuntary whimper that pathetically escapes him when his hand is torn away from Blitz’s. Loona all but shoves him in one of the shitty plastic hospital chairs. He quickly scoots forward, getting as close as he can to the bed, leaning against the cold metal bar guarding the side, ignoring how uncomfortable the position is. He sniffles, intertwining his fingers with the imps once again.

He can hear Moxxie talking to one of the nurses, probably asking for information on Blitz’s condition. Stolas knows he should probably listen, that it’s probably important information, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t hear anything over the screaming of his mind.

Loona doesn’t try to say anything else to him. She doesn’t offer empty promises of comfort, doesn’t try to tell him everything will be alright. He does the same. He knows there’s nothing he could tell her that would make her feel better. Not until Blitz was awake.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her walk to her side of the bed, sitting down in her chair. She takes Blitz’s other hand between her paws, squeezing it lightly. The hellhound whispers something to her father that Stolas can’t quite make out.

He leans forward, resting his chin against his folded arms, his face so close to Blitz, yet he feels so far away from him.

He keeps all four of his eyes glued to Blitz’s face, waiting for any slight change, any sign that he’s waking up. Nothing happens, no matter how much he stares.

“He’s been through worse,” Loona finally says, her voice smaller than Stolas has ever heard. He’s not sure if she’s trying to reassure herself or him.

Stolas shakes his head. “I know, but…he shouldn’t have had to.”

Days begin to pass, and Stolas hardly notices. Blitz’s condition doesn’t change, no matter how many tests the doctors run. Stolas makes it his personal goal to leave his seat as little as possible. Even sleeping became scarce for the former prince.

What if he closed his eyes, and Blitz’s chest didn’t rise again after it fell?

Millie and Moxxie come and go. Each time, they bring a new horse plush to keep Blitz company, tucking them around him until he’s buried in horses. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Stolas wonders where the hell they are going to put them all, but more so, all he can imagine is the joy that will be on Blitz’s face when he sees the gifts. He can imagine him happily rambling, telling Stolas all the adorably ridiculous names he’ll give them, all of which Stolas will make a point to remember. And everything will go back to normal.

It takes three days for Millie to get the owl out of the room. The furthest he had gone before was the bathroom. He was never gone for longer than 5 minutes at most. Loona would leave at night to sleep at the apartment, although he had a creeping suspicion she just left when her emotions became too much and she feared breaking down.

One day, he hopes she won’t feel the need to hide from him to cry. He wants to be there for her, to be a second father.

Would Octavia hate him for thinking that? Would she think he’s replacing her?

The idea was terrifying. He wasn’t replacing his daughter, he never could, but he didn’t need to completely close his heart away either, right?

He doesn’t eat much. The hospital doesn’t have anything that interests him in that field. The food here is disgusting, unlike the mice that Blitz had worked for weeks now to perfect, just as Stolas liked them.

Loona started to bring him meals in the morning, and brought him another before she went home for the night. In the evenings when Millie and Moxxie visited, they would bring him lunch. He rarely had an appetite, but Millie had given him a serious look the first time when he tried to refuse.

“Ya’ want me to tell B that you ain’t eatin’? You think he’d be happy to hear that?”

Safe to say, he snapped out of it after that. He gave Blitz enough to worry about, given his whole…situation. He didn’t want to add any more to the other man’s plate.

No matter how much time passes, no matter how long it takes for Blitz to wake up, Stolas will wait. He can’t leave him alone. Blitz hates being alone.

He watches Blitz until he falls asleep, leaning against the metal railing, the ache in his arms becoming familiar. His forehead presses against his forearms, his fingers curled around Blitz’s, one of his talons resting right against his pulse, the steady beat soothing him to the land of dreams. Nightmares don’t visit him here, while he’s this close to Blitz.

 

---

 

The next time Stolas opens his eyes, he wakes to two sensations. A soft voice whispering to him, and a hand raking through his feathers in a way he loves beyond words. There was only one being in all of Hell who knew how to do it properly.

He blinks sleep away, raising his head, almost afraid of what he might see, afraid that this is all just a desperate hallucination forged from his exhausted mind.

Until he hears him.

“You awake, big bird?”

Suddenly, he’s not tired anymore.

His head shoots up, moving so fast he wonders idly if he’ll get whiplash. He swallows hard as he makes eye contact with those gorgeous, glowing gold eyes he adores. Blitz’s gaze holds so much affection, more than Stolas knows how to deal with. It’s as if the imp is simply overflowing with love.

Which was ridiculous. How could anyone ever love someone as useless and broken as him? How could brilliant, smart, incredible Blitz love him to such an extent?

He swallows, not even realizing he was crying until he feels a familiar, rough hand softly cradle his face in one palm, a gentle thumb trailing over his white feathers, wiping away the unwelcome show of emotion.

“I thought you were going to die,” Stolas chokes out. “Blitz, I thought you were gone .”

It’s the first time he’s said it out loud. He hadn’t dared speak it into existence, no matter how many days passed by. He knew in his soul that either Blitz would get better, or he would follow him wherever hellborns went after death. He would follow him till they were nothing but stars shining in the night, souls forever bound together in the sky.

The imp scoffs, keeping his free hand on Stolas’ cheek, the other one clutched between both of Stolas’.

“As if a few bullets could keep me down, have a little faith in me, Stols.” He whispers. Even as he says it with that forced confident energy, his face is pale, and his grip weak.

The imp shifts into a sitting position, hardly able to mask his wince of pain as he jostles. He manages to remove his hand from Stolas’ death grip, raising it to hold both sides of Stolas’ face, looking into his eyes.

Blitz moves Stolas’ head forward, one hand shifting to cradle the back of the owl's head as he presses their foreheads together, breaths mingling. They both close their eyes, letting the moment wash over them. Stolas raises his free hand to grasp onto Blitz’s wrist, taking in a long, trembling breath. 

“ Blitz ,” He rasps out.

“I gotcha, birdie.” 

Stolas swallows roughly, forcing back his tears. “The bullet nearly struck your heart. It…you…you were so close to… Blitz …”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t. ‘Kay? So don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

Something inside of Stolas snaps. He hates how nonchalant Blitz is acting about this, even if he knows the imp is just trying to act strong for his benefit. It wasn’t right. Blitz could have lost his life. Did he not realize that? Did he not realize how broken Stolas would be? Did he have any idea how many tears Stolas had shed over the idea of Blitz going somewhere he can’t follow? The reality of it…it would tear Stolas apart. It would destroy whatever stitches were holding his bleeding heart together. He would fade into nothing.

He lets out a soft cry as he falls forward, pillowing his head against Blitz’s chest, pressed right up against his beating heart. He’s half on the bed, his stomach pressed uncomfortably against the railing, his feet dangling mere inches above the floor.

Blitz winces underneath him; Stolas is about to pull away, to retreat, but the imp doesn’t allow him to. His scarred hand holds on the back of the owl's head, keeping him in place. Blitz shifts underneath him, trying to find the most comfortable position. He scoops one arm around Stolas’ thin waist, all but hauling him onto the mattress, the owl lying between Blitz’s legs. The lower half of Stolas' body is completely hanging off the end, but he doesn’t care. He crawls closer, burying his face against the imp's neck, feeling his tears finally beginning to fall, softly dripping onto Blitz. The other doesn’t complain, keeping his grip tight.

“It’s okay, Stols,” Blitz whispers, his lips pressed against the top of Stolas’ head, voice soft. “I’m alright.”

“Y-..you almost…” The bird chokes out. “You almost weren’t.”

The imp sighs, tightening his hold. He takes one of Stolas’ hands in his own, calloused fingers wrapping around the former prince's frail wrists. He slowly guides the owl’s hand underneath his hospital gown, leading it to the small, round scar just below his heart. He holds eye contact with Stolas throughout the entire time, his gaze gentle.

Stolas gasps, raising his head to truly meet the other’s gaze, his finger lightly soothing the split skin, touch soft as a feather.

“Guess we kinda match now, hm?” Blitz tries to make him laugh, using his other hand to pull Stolas’ shirt to the side, peeking over at Stolas’ scarred shoulder. “Romantic, my ass.”

Somehow, Stolas manages a small, choked laugh at those words, his eyes softening, his entire body feeling lighter, as if the weight of the world has been removed, if only for this one moment. All the stress and fear disappear as he slides his hand up until he can feel Blitz’s gentle heartbeat against his talons.

He’s okay.

Finally, after days of feeling like there was barely enough oxygen, of listening to nothing but the constant beeps of machines as they ticked down until his lover's last breath, he feels as though he can breathe.

He sniffles, leaning back into the imp’s waiting arms, keeping his hand on Blitz’s bare chest. He lowers his head down to rest it right above his hand, feeling the steady beat against his ear.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

He feels another weak sob rising in his throat. He knows he should be the strong one, for once , he should be the strong one, but Blitz is holding him without complaint, and he can’t help but give in to his emotions. Not while Blitz is whispering sweet nothings in his other ear, his free hand painting endless patterns against his back.

Stolas curls up in his arms, swallowing hard, pressing himself as close as he possibly can.

“I was so fucking scared, you asshole,” He whimpers, clutching onto him.

“I’m sorry.”

Stolas sobs harder at that. “N-...no. No. Don’t…just…just hold me.”

“...Okay.”

He’s not sure how long they stay in that position. Long enough that his entire lower body aches from the awkward position, and his tears finally dry, the marks of snot coating the front of Blitz’s gown, but the imp doesn’t complain.

Stolas adjusts himself slowly, careful not to touch any of the wires attached to Blitz, as he manages to get into the most comfortable position given the situation.

He feels Blitz’s lips press against the top of his head, whispering something his sleepy mind can’t quite make out, and he knows it’s all worth it.

He doesn’t let go for the rest of the night.

Notes:

Im hoping to not make the wait between this and chapter 3 as long.

If you're enjoying the fic so far make sure to leave a comment! They make my day :)

Chapter 3: Three

Notes:

Um

Hi

Im sorry this took so long, guys. I was studying my ass off for finals and then I was super burnt out the entire week from it.

BUT it's over and I'm alive and a person again, so here you go! :D

I hope you enjoy

This must be what the brink of insanity felt like.

Blitz had been confined to the hospital for over a week now, despite being regularly conscious and healing steadily. The doctors kept saying bullshit about “tearing his stiches” and “making it worse” and “exposing the wound to infection” if he left now.

Assholes.

Every extra second he stays bound to this room is another part of his savings down the drain. He’s going to have to sneak off and do so many extra missions to pay this off, Stolas will be pissed if he finds out.

Plus, he’s bored .

It’s as if hospitals were allergic to entertainment. The TV had like two channels, both of which sucked. And the room was empty aside from all the horse plushes M&M had brought, which he loves .

He had already named them all, having Stolas write down all their backstories and lore in a glittery horse-themed notebook Blitz had Loona bring.

His daughter and M&M visited at least once a day, but they spent most of their time at the office, doing what they could to keep money coming in. Millie would play secretary—there was no way in the seven rings that Stolas was leaving Blitz’s side—while Loona and Moxxie went out on the field.

It worries Blitz, knowing they’re out there and he can’t protect them. It’s his job to keep his family safe. What good is he if they get hurt while he’s bound to some stupid hospital bed?

And then there’s Stolas.

Now, don’t get him wrong, Blitz loves the undivided attention and care, he really does. He gets it, he scared the shit out of Stolas, it only makes sense. However , it was getting to be a bit much.

He could count on one hand how many times he had seen Stolas leave the room for longer than ten minutes. He hadn’t preened—despite clearly needing to—and refused to let Blitz help in that regard, he wasn’t eating properly or drinking enough water, and it scared the shit out of Blitz. He knows the bird thinks he’s being subtle, but Blitz knows him; he can see it in his eyes. He knows Stolas probably isn’t even sleeping properly at this point, just “standing guard” and watching over Blitz.

He tries to get him to relax, to pull him onto the bed and cuddle with him until his brain quiets, but the anxiety doesn’t leave Stolas’ gaze, no matter what Blitz tries.

The more prideful part of himself wants to be offended, to roll his eyes at the former prince, to scream that he doesn’t need to be babied, that he’s been through way worse and ended up fine, but he doesn’t. That’s not who he wants to be anymore. If Stolas wants to dote on him, if it makes him feel even a bit better, then he’ll let him.

He supposes it isn’t all awful. He gets to spend unlimited time with his bird, holding him, soothing him, and hearing him talk. There’s no other way he’d rather spend his days than like this with Stolas; he could ignore the pain that shot through his side every time he dared to move too much if it meant he got to see his pretty bird smile after every embrace. 

It’s nice to know someone cares about him enough to be this worked up over the idea of him being gone. For a long time, he had figured no one would ever care. Or, at least, they wouldn’t care forever. Maybe a few tears at the funeral, but everyone would live on; they wouldn’t be heartbroken. 

Stolas has proved that he was wrong to think that. Stolas has shown him every day since he first woke up in this stupid fucking hospital how much he didn’t want to live without him.

It was nice to matter.

 

---

 

The boredom gets the better of him.

He tries, he really tries to stay confined to his bed and obey the doctor's orders, but it’s so boring . He had spent the entire afternoon trying to convince Stolas that he was ready to go home, that he was fine , but the owl insisted that the “doctors knew best”. 

What a load of bullshit.

He eventually gave up, pouting like a stubborn child for the rest of the night. He didn’t see why he couldn’t just recover at home, in the comfort of his apartment, where it didn’t cost a trillion dollars every millisecond. 

“You wouldn’t stay still and rest, you would try to go to work.” Stolas had said when he tried to argue this point. Fucking asshole, knowing him.

He waits until Stolas is passed out, slumped over the railing, lanky body hunched over in that awful plastic hospital chair. He had fallen asleep an hour ago while reading to him, the book lay open on the side of the bed, Stolas’ talons lightly grazing over the edge of the spine with each inhale.

Blitz has to force himself to look away in fear that he’ll get too caught up in his pretty face; he won't have time to do his completely foolproof plan if he keeps wasting all this time. 

It was simple. Get up, walk around, prove he was good to go, shove it in Stolas’ face, and try to get out of here spending the least amount of money possible.

See? Foolproof.

He swings his legs over the side of the bed, feet dangling above the ground. He pushes himself off the edge, hooves clicking lightly as they meet the cold hospital tile. A shiver instantly runs down his spine, his arms unsteadily reaching to support himself, causing him to hunch over awkwardly, one side of his body leaning on the side of the bed railing. He slowly shifts his weight to stand up straighter, raising his foot to take a step.

Crash.

“Fuck!” He slams against the ground, his body throbbing in pain as he pants, trying to catch his breath. He had jerked on impact, causing a shaft of agony to sprout from his wounded area.

Fuck fuck fuck .

“B…Blitz?”

He freezes. 

Oh yay, even better!

He grits his teeth. “Down here.”

In a matter of seconds, he hears the familiar pitter-patter of Stolas’ talons against the tile as the former Goetia rushes to his side, Blitz consciously avoids looking up at his face; he doesn’t want to see the disappointment that’s surely present in those pretty eyes.

“Oh, Blitz,” Stolas kneels in front of him, carefully taking hold of his face. Blitz naturally leans into his hold, a small, almost silent purr escaping his lips without his consent.

Shit, he was really down bad.

He can practically feel all four of Stolas’ eyes frantically looking him over, checking the extent of the damage. His hands pressed against Blitz’s chest as if he could heal it.

Blitz feels like a monster when he sees the dejected look on the prince’s face when he’s slapped with reality. 

“Hey, hey. It’s alright, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Stolas insists gently, his brow creased in worry, eyes wide, his pupils dancing around frantically, searching for a solution. “Can you stand?”

“Yeah! Totally, Stols. I’m fine .” Blitz tries to prove his point, praying to fucking Satan it’s true and he doesn’t have to put his birdie through any more unnecessary worry.

Of course, it was stupid of him to assume Satan would provide any helping hand.

As soon as he manages to stand, the pain is overbearing, instantly sending him back to his knees. Stolas catches him, quickly pulling him to his chest. Normally, he’d enjoy the sensation of his head pillowed against those soft feathers, but the pain shooting through his entire being drowns out the love coursing through his veins.

He exhales sharply, digging his claws into Stolas’ arm as he tries to fight the pain, hoping it’ll fade.

He manages to gather the strength to look up, trying to find solace in the comfort of Stolas’ face.

Instantly, he regrets that choice.

The sight in front of him makes him feel like the biggest piece of shit in the world. Stolas is gazing down at him with big, wet, scared eyes, looking as though he’s mere seconds from bursting into tears.

Why do you always do this? Why do you always find a way to fuck up and make him cry? Haven’t you caused him enough pain, you selfish prick?

He swallows, the guilt hurting worse than the remnant of pain from the wound.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I thought it wouldn’t hurt.”

Stolas sighs, the exhaustion in his eyes clear. He silently lifts Blitz up into his arms, cradling him so gently—more gently than Blitz will ever deserve—against his chest.

Slowly and ever so gently, Stolas lowers him down onto the bed, tucking him in like a child. He bites back the urge to snap and say he can do it himself, that he doesn’t need to be coddled, Stolas doesn’t deserve his misplaced anger.

He kept his mouth shut, sighing as the pain from the wound didn’t go away. He hears Stolas calling for a nurse, the poor bird sounding panicked as ever.

Fuck, Blitz really needed to find a way to make this all up to him after all this shit was over.

The nurse seems pissed off at him, which he supposes is fair enough. He had been given specific instructions not to get up. He had never done well with listening to instructions.

Stolas holds his hand throughout all of it. Blitz isn’t sure if it’s meant to comfort him or if the owl is trying to soothe himself.

He winces as the doctor fixes his stitches, wincing in pain. It bothers him that it’s hurting this much, where did his fucking pain tolerence go? He got half of his face burned off, and he handled that just fine.

He sighs, slumping against the pillow as the doctor finishes up, zoning out the long lecture that follows. He closes his eyes when he hears Stolas responding on his behalf, not caring enough to focus on what the owl is saying.

He feels more pathetic than he has in years. He shouldn’t need to be banished to a hospital bed because of a gunshot wound. He was tougher than this. This was nothing. He didn’t need people to take care of him like this; he could take care of himself just fine. It shouldn’t be necessary for him to spend all this time in a hospital.

Hospitals were a curse. Nothing good ever came out of them. He had watched them rush his mother’s burnt body to one, and she never came home. He had tried so hard to fight to see Fizz despite all the pain he was in himself, only to be turned away by his own father. He remembers catching a glimpse of Fizz that day, all broken and bloodied, hooked up to so many machines. He remembers seeing Barbie crying off to the side, her head buried in her hands. He had tried to get to her, to hold his sister and make it all better, but he couldn’t.

Blitz takes a deep breath, reaching his arms out to Stolas silently. All of the anger he expected to be on the bird's face wasn’t present; instead, the owl just gazed down at him softly, a hint of understanding in his ruby eyes. Stolas slowly moved closer, laying his lanky ass body onto the bed beside Blitz.

The imp carefully maneuvers to the side, waiting until Stolas looks somewhat comfortable before slowly resting his head against his feathered chest. The familiar tickle against his skin stands as a reminder that he isn’t alone. 

He can’t imagine the bed is at all comfortable for Stolas—not that his fucking couch was much better—but the bird has never once complained.

How had it been for him when he was all alone in a bed just like this one, waiting for a visit that would never come?

Blitz’s heart clenches in his chest, a small exhale escaping his lips as he tightens his hold, burying his claws gently against Stolas, gripping onto the visible feathers.

If he could go back in time, he would have found a way. He would have found some way. He would have tried to reschedule Loona’s appointment, or made sure Millie and Moxxie got there sooner, or he should have fucking ended that slimey snake bastard months ago at the fucking festival.

If he could go back in time, he would have made sure he visited. He would have gotten over himself, over that cowardice fear, over the repetitive lie that Stolas wouldn’t even want to see him.

He would have done something.

He hates it. He hates that whole situation. He hates imagining his bright, powerful Stolas reduced to nothing more than an injured mortal. He isn’t mortal. It wasn’t right. 

He should never have gotten hurt, it shouldn’t have been possible, Blitz had been so sure—

Stolas’ talons slowly rub gentle circles between his shoulder blades, a light hum escaping his beak, trying to soothe all the tension brewing inside Blitz. 

He kisses Stolas’ chest gently, right where his heart is, feeling the familiar beating beneath his lips. He won’t ever let Striker hurt Stolas again, not while he’s still breathing. There is no distance he wouldn’t go to keep this bird safe.

He knows Stolas feels the same about him; he’s seen it firsthand, and that terrifies him. He could throw his life away for Stolas with no regrets, but if Stolas did that for him? It was unimaginable.

He presses closer, sighing softly, letting his eyes drift close. “I’m sorry.”

There’s a small pause before he feels Stolas’ beak graze the top of his head as he presses a gentle kiss against his brand. “I forgive you. Just…be careful, Blitz.”

The imp nods, closing his eyes, letting his body go lax against him as he submits to sleep once more.

 

---

 

Two and a half weeks.

After two and a half weeks of constant anxiety, the doctors finally said the words Stolas had been waiting to hear. Blitz can go home.

He’s beyond relieved, his entire body feeling lighter, an impossible weight lifted off his shoulders, despite being instantly replaced with another, even heavier one.

The doctor places the paper in his trembling hands, his heart thumping loudly in his chest, all the blood draining from his face. The money written on the paper taunts him as he digs through every dollar he has to his name.

It’s not enough.

A few nights ago, while Blitz was resting, he had snuck home, gathering all of his paychecks from the months of working at I.M.P, every single penny he had found on the side of the street, every tip, everything, yet it wasn’t enough .

He fights back tears. He doesn’t want to cry, not again. That’s all he’d been doing for weeks, for months , for his entire fucking life ; never useful, always nothing more than a pathetic mess.

He’s not sure how long he sits there by Blitz’s bedside, staring down at the number on the paper, the number he can’t cover alone. He wishes more than anything that there was a way that Blitz didn’t have to spend his savings on this.

The imp is asleep still, looking peaceful as ever. It makes something deep inside Stolas’ chest clench. Blitz had been doing so, so much for him these past couple of months—more than Stola deserved—and he couldn’t even do this for him.

He sighs, picking himself up off the bed, pressing a gentle kiss to Blitz’s forehead, muttering a quiet apology against his skin, feeling more like a failure than he has in weeks.

The owl stays close by, never letting himself drift too far from his beloved. He needed to keep Blitz close, always. Who knows what would happen if he went too far? If he wasn’t here to keep Blitz safe, who would?

Millie and Moxxie show up for their usual visit, but this time, Stolad can’t help but notice the small envelope Millie has clenched in her hand. She catches his gaze, her eyes shining with familiar understanding. 

His breath catches in his throat. No way. He couldn’t ask this of them. Why would they…?

“He’s our family,” Moxxie says simply, taking the envelope from Millie and holding it out to Stolas.

His beak parts uselessly. He wants to say something. To thank them, to find some way to repay them, but Moxxie stops him before he can, holding his hand up.

“He would do the same for us.” His voice is so full of conviction, as if nothing could possibly alter this belief. And Stolas knows he’s right, because that’s who Blitz was. There was no length he wouldn’t go to keep those he loves safe. Stolas was beyond happy that those the imp loves, love him to the same extent.

“He would do more for us,” Millie adds, her gaze so fond as she looks over at her resting best friend. Her eyes swirling with so much emotion, tail flickering behind her.

Stolas stands up, pulling both of the imps into a tight, crushing hug. He can feel how surprised they are, their bodies tense against him. Before he can pull away and spit out a million apologies, they fling an arm around his back, smiling against his shoulder.

It was such an honor to see this family interact. With all the shit that they all gave each other, Stolas knew the four I.M.P workers would do anything to ensure the others were safe. 

And he was beginning to realize that he was a part of that.

He takes the money, clutching it close to his heart, using his other hand to reach for all the money he had saved up. He’d make sure M&M got all their change back. He had a creeping suspicion this was part of the savings they had set aside for the baby.

While Millie hadn’t outright told him, he wasn’t blind. He had a feeling he knew she was pregnant before she did.

Millie and Moxxie agree to keep watch over Blitz, quickly settling in. He smiles at the sight. His heart warms every time he’s reminded of just how loved Blitz is. Good. He deserves it. Blitz deserves to feel loved.

He enters the lobby, and out of the corner of his eye, he catches Loona standing by the door, smiling down at her phone. He tilts his head, curiosity brewing within him. Luckily, she sees him first, smiling at him with almost teary eyes. He opens his mouth to say something before his breath catches, his eyes focusing on a small, purple feather resting beside Loona’s feet. When he lifts his gaze back up to Loona, she nods at him, a genuine smile on her face.

Before he can say anything, he feels his phone buzzing wildly in his pocket.

 

MESSAGE FROM STARFIRE

Hi Dad. I think this is your new number. Loona texted me and told me that Blitz was hurt. I swiped some of your money from Uncle Andre’s stash. He won’t notice.

I know the imp is important to you, I don’t want him or you to suffer, even though I don’t like him

 

It goes silent for a few minutes before Stolas is blessed with those bubbles again. After so many weeks of waiting, he feels like he can breathe.

 

I’m still really mad at you. And confused

…

Mostly confused

I don’t want to see you, but I do hope you're happy

I don’t hate you, Dad.

 

Stolas finds himself closing his eyes, pinching himself, unable to believe this is real. He wipes his face down when a couple of tears inevitably slip through, laughing freely, feeling impossibly light.

 

My Starfire. There are no words to express how grateful I am; I can only hope you can accept a simple thank you. I understand your anger, I understand how hard this all is on you. I miss you too, Via, every second. Do not ever think for a moment that I am happier without you; my heart is incomplete.

I understand why you may not like Blitz, but please believe me when I tell you, he is not what he seems. I can see how he seems the villain from your side, but he was my savior.

I did not choose to leave you, Via. I chose to save him. There is a difference. I hope one day we can talk everything out. I will wait as long as you need, no matter how long it takes. When you’re ready, I will be here.

I love you so much, Starfire.

 

There’s no response, but he doesn’t need one. Octavia had reached out, she had told him she loves him—even after everything—and she paid for Blitz’s bill. His sweet, wonderful girl, so kind, no matter how Stella tried to change her. She was forever his daughter.

He has never been prouder.

When he powered off his phone, all the weight that had been crushing down on him had vanished. He’s sure some of it will return once this high fades, but it won’t be as unbearable now that he knows Octavia still cares, and that one day, he will have a chance to make things right. That was enough for him.

He turns and sees Blitz limping toward him. He’s leaning heavily on Moxxie while Millie carries his things, holding an entire bag just full of all the new horses Blitz had acquired.

Blitz has changed out of the hospital gown; instead, he’s wearing an oversized t-shirt and a pair of black shorts. So simply dressed and still paler than usual, but Stolas is positive there has never been a more handsome man in the history of hell.

“Octavia came,” He bursts out instantly. Loona comes to join him, standing beside him, all the tension released from her shoulders. She hands him the feather, placing it in his palm. He swallows as he looks down at it before returning his gaze to Blitz. “She paid for your bill with some of my old money. It’s all taken care of.”

As he says those last words, he hands the envelope back to Millie and Moxxie, sliding his own money back into his pockets. 

He watches as Blitz’s face morphs from surprise to pure shock, his chin trembling as he bites the inside of his cheek, refusing to let any of his tears fall. He looks over at Millie, his arm still flung over Moxxie’s shoulder.

“You were going to…?”

“Of course, B!” Millie sounds genuinely offended he’d even ask. “You shouldn’t have to spend your own money on this shit. You got shot , it ain’t your fault.”

He turns his head to look at Moxxie, as if expecting some regret to be on the smaller imp's face, but Moxxie just nods, a smile on his lips.

Blitz inhales shakily, now looking up at Stolas. “And you?”

The owl rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I was going to use the money I’ve gathered from working at I.M.P, but it wasn’t enough, so these two pitched in as well.”

Blitz looks up at him with pure disbelief. It breaks Stolas’ heart to know that the imp thinks it’s so impossible for those who love him to want to spend their money on keeping him healthy.

He doesn’t let the ache it causes in his heart show on his face. Blitz will take it as him doing something wrong with his reaction. Yes, it broke Stolas’ heart, but not for the reasons Blitz thinks. He simply can not stand the idea of Blitz thinking he isn’t worth this.

There is no length I wouldn’t go to keep you safe . Stolas almost blurts out, but he knows deep down he doesn’t have to. He’s already proven it in a way that his words can’t match.

He just holds out his hand to Blitz, interlocking their fingers. “Let’s go home.”

Home. He likes the sound of that, and given the way Blitz’s tail wags behind him, he has a feeling his beloved does too.

 

---

 

As soon as they enter the apartment—for the first time in weeks for Blitz and Stolas—Loona kneels, pulling her father in tightly against her chest. Unlike when he watched the hug after the trial, Stolas feels nothing but love brewing within him. There’s no jealousy or envy this time around. He and Via would be okay soon enough; there was no reason to project on Blitz and Loona’s bond.

His heart aches for the hellhound, who has almost watched her dad lose his life in front of her very own eyes twice now. He can’t imagine the damage it’s done. He can see it in the way she clutches onto him tightly, her snout buried in his shoulder, claws clenching onto the back of his shirt, the embrace lasting just a bit longer than needed.

They make dinner in silence, Loona joining them for an episode of My Little Hellpony while they eat before retreating to her room for the night. The gentle, fond look on Blitz’s face makes Stolas’ heart soar. This was his favorite version of Blitz, the one that bore none of the demons that haunted him. Instead, he was brimming with love.

Stolas loves him so much it scares him.

He’s pulled away from his thoughts as Blitz exits the bathroom, still wearing the same outfit as before. Stolas supposes there’s no reason for the imp to change to sleep.

“Alright, I don’t know about you, but I am spent .” Blitz yawns dramatically, flopping down onto the beanbag. Stolas narrows his eyes, watching him carefully, making sure he’s not putting any pressure on the wound.

“No.”

“No?” Blitz cocks his head playfully.

“You’re not sleeping there,” Stolas says simply. He walks over to the beanbag and scoops Blitz up into his arms bridal style. The imp sputters in protest, trying to squirm away through his hardly suppressed laughter, but Stolas holds tight, lowering them both onto the couch, keeping Blitz pressed against his chest as he lies on his back.

“You’re staying with me tonight.” Stolas smiles gently down at him. He’s not sure it’s possible to fall even more in love with this man, but when Blitz looks up at him, eyes shining with nothing but pure affection, Stolas is sure his heart falls even further.

The imp shrugs, apparently not finding it worth arguing about. Stolas catches the smile on Blitz’s lips before the imp turns away, curling into a tight ball that reminds Stolas very much of those silly Earth cats.

One of his hands strokes Blitz’s horns lightly, pressing a feather-light kiss to the top of his head.

“You still owe me a date.” He whispers, feeling unusually bold. He had let all the pain consume him since the trial, but for once, just this once, he wants to be happy. He wants to be happy with Blitz.

“Oh yeah,” Blitz yawns, frog blinking up at him. Got plans this Friday?”

“It’s nearly Thursday, Blitz!”

The imp fake thinks about it before shrugging, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Guess we’ll have to do some last-minute planning.”

Stolas laughs, holding Blitz even closer, cradling the back of his head preciously. “Sounds perfect, dear.”

Everything was going to be okay.

Notes:

Glad to end this fic, and I hope you all stick with this series as it continues! :D

Sorry again for the wait, everybody. Thank you for reading!

Leave a comment if you enjoyed, they make my day :)

Next part of the series will be the STOLITZ DATE NIGHT :D

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 5 of One Helluva Journey