"Hey, Blitz? Ah'..ah' Know Yeh' Think Yeh' Gonna Die Alone Because A Lotta Fuckas' Have Told Yeh' That

"Hey, Blitz? Ah'…..ah' know yeh' think yeh' gonna die alone because a lotta fuckas' have told yeh' that and….and ah' know yeh' ain't perfect by a long shot and have made some mistakes. But ah' just wanted yeh' tah' know that ah' lo-….ah'….lov-….geezus, nevermind. Ah' ain't even drunk. Ah' just….yeh' mean a lot tah' meh', okay? And that might sound pretty worthless comin' from a whore like meh' but ah'….wanted yeh' tah' know that."

Maybe for some people, a sweet and loving voicemail wouldn't break a heart.

Maybe for the lucky ones.

Blitz listened to it three times before he could breathe. He sat in his officer chair, feet up on the seat, tail and arms around his legs, staring down at the phone on his desk. The blue-white gleam from the screen and the golden glow from his eyes were the only lights in the room. Everything else was dark. Quiet.

"...ah wanted yeh tah know that..."

Angel sounded sincere.

He sounded like he meant it.

Angel Dust.

Angel Dust hadn't been at the party. Fizzarolli hadn't been at the party. Moxxie and Millie hadn't been at the party. Loona hadn't been at the party.

Blitz hit play again.

And this time, this time he heard it.

"I just wanted you to know that I lo-- I love..."

Eyes widening, he sat up slowly, dropping his feet to the ground. Blitz backed recording up and replayed that part. It--it couldn't be what it sounded like, because why the fuck would it? Why the fuck would anyone...

Shit.

Shit.

Feeling sick to his stomach, he stood up and walked over to put his face in the lemon tree. Hope no whores are stealing our lemons, he thought, the YouTube video still living rent-free in his head, loud and inane and completely out of place right now against Angel Dust's sweet voice admitting to-- almost admitting to something that had to be a mistake. Some cosmic fuckup. Because what if--

What if this time next year, Angel Dust was at the party?

What if he was the one leading a song?

What if he was the one aching with regret?

Blitz hugged the stupid tree, his breath shaky, fighting back tears. He wasn't going to cry. Not again. And somehow, he vowed, somehow he was going to protect Angel Dust from him. He was going to make sure Angel never, never ended up at the party.

"I won't break your heart," he whispered, not that Angel could hear it. When was he going to see him again--a few days? Blitz had lost track of time.

Fuck.

He straightened up, letting go of the tree, and leaned his head back.

The phone was quiet, so he walked over and hit Play again.

Angel's voice in the darkness, sweet and sincere, tentative, aware of the danger.

When I see him, Blitz told himself, I'll do whatever it takes to protect him. Anything. No matter what. Angel... Angel deserves better. He deserves so much better.

Blitz looked at the handkerchief for a moment like he didn't recognize what it was, then actually smiled. The smile was small and sad and maybe it didn't touch the heartache at all, but that was alright. Moxxie's kind gesture was something, surprising enough to be distracting. By now, Blitz wouldn't be surprised if Moxxie took the opportunity to get a few digs in, kick him while he was down. He was fairly certain the other imp didn't like him much, and this would be a good time, a strategic time...

But Moxxie wasn't going out of his way to hurt him. The handkerchief wasn't the prelude to a sneer or an insult. He stayed. He didn't have to. He could just walk out. They were the only two here, no one would know, but he was here. Staying with Blitz. It mattered. It helped.

Blitz took the handkerchief and pressed it against his eyes, just letting the tears soak in for a few painful moments as he fought to control his breathing. Everything felt cataclysmic right now, like the world was going to fall apart, but it wasn't. It wasn't, he reminded himself more firmly, wiping the tears away.

"Thanks," Blitz said very softly, crushing the handkerchief in his hand, unable to let it go yet, staring at the floor. "All this time, Mox, I've... I've been in love with Stolas. Since our first night together. I just... don't know how. Love is supposed to work. Fucking obviously, right? But I thought he--that I was a toy. He called me his impish little plaything. That's how it fucking started, so sure, why not? His dad bought me for him when we were kids, why wouldn't he think that's all that... I'm good for.

"But tonight he took the book back. Permanently. And he said I didn't have to come back unless I wanted to. And I thought..." Blitz wrapped his arms around his head. "I thought he was fucking with me. Roleplaying. But he wasn't, and he didn't want to hear me talk, he just broke it off and I chased him and then finally understood that he-- I think he fucking loved me. And I reached out and he used his magic and sent me out and he left and he's gone. And I'm a fucking mess. It's....

"Fuck, you know? Just... fuck."

Having gotten all of that out seemed to have helped somewhat, at least; Blitz physically relaxed a little more, leaning against the wall instead of staying hunched in a ball, and he looked over at Moxxie.

"So, uh... how... was your night?"

Moxxie had never seen Blitzo sob like this before. He almost stood there in shock. He looked around to be sure they were alone. He had always known Blitzo to be the clownish type to deflect with humor project on the defensive. Sometimes it was hurtful. It hurt less when Moxxie figured out that Blitzo was a damaged imp like himself. But seeing this  just stung.

“Blitz…” he stepped forward and allowed his boss to sink to the floor, not trying to keep him standing or interrupting him. If he had something to share then it was best to let him air it.

He kept saying Stolas was gone. His mind jumped to the worst case scenario. Had Stella finally succeeded? Had that asshole Striker killed Stolas? Had another assassin?

It might be too delicate a question to ask while Blitzo was like this. But then again, the elephant wasn’t just in the room, it was suffocating them. So instead he went and sat beside Blitzo on the floor. Looking at him, he pulled out his handkerchief and offered it to Blitzo.

“Do you want to talk about it? Maybe it’ll help. I know when I’m alone and bottle things up, the feelings ‘grow.’”

He had noticed over the years Blitzo stalked them on dates, invaded their space, insisted on being called a ‘family. But more and more he understood that the other imp was trying to supplant himself into what he imagined a happy family must be. So maybe offering attentiveness could help. The Stolas comment had him jumpy too but he would let Blitzo explain that.

Fuck. Blitz was usually the one to lead when it came to kissing someone, initiating things, setting off cascades of dangerous sparks. That was usually his fault--his doing. But giving in and letting Angel kiss him like this? It was nice, for a couple of seconds. For just a moment there, it was kind of wonderful. The kiss was hot, and as Blitz returned it with full enthusiasm, it was sexy as fuck--

Until he felt it.

The honesty.

The need.

The yearning. Not even desire, but a yearning behind that passion. The need to connect. To see and be seen. To hold and be hold. Angel had just willingly smashed all of his own walls down, taken down his own protections, and he was putting himself out here--fully vulnerable, fully courageous.

The way Blitz kissed him back softened, eased, pulling back from something passionate and dangerous, smoothing into something gentler, but no less deep, no less wanting. Eventually, when he pulled back enough to look up into Angel's eyes, Blitz's expression was almost imploring. Don't hurt yourself to help me, he wanted to say. I'm going to find a way to help you someday. Whatever it takes. But that means you need to be around to be helped... why are you risking yourself like this? Why are you risking baring yourself to me? He could feel the tenderness of a good heart here, a heart that could be bruised, that maybe bruised itself half the time when a smile was forced...

A little overwhelmed with the weight of this trust, Blitz nonetheless took it in stride. He didn't imagine he was hiding anything anymore, either.

"Angel?" He took two of his hands and kissed them both, unsure what he was trying to accomplish here, only that there was some kind of need, fractured sparks bouncing between them, impossible to see, impossible not to feel. "I don't... know what you... ah, fuck. I'm gonna try so fucking hard not to hurt you, okay? But if--if you start to feel hurt or anything, and you, you, you need to pull away, or stop reading my texts, or just... anything. You should. And I'll get it." It took courage to make oneself vulnerable like this. Angel deserved better than a shitty relationship with a shitty imp--but here they were, starting something without any apparent brakes or definitions, and it felt... fucking nice. Right?

Could a relationship ever feel even halfway right...?

Angel knew what was happening all too well. He was no mind reader, but he knew the signs enough. He had seen them reflected in his own mirror, the over extended confidence that yeah, he did have, but it was his only shield, hiding away all the hurt and broken feelings that lingered inside. He didn't know what monster had put those thoughts into Blitz' head, in fact, maybe it had been the imp doing it to himself, but Angel didn't care. All he knew was - he was there. He got it.

Even the way the other forced that smile, put on the facade, it was all sickeningly familiar. Just smile and nod, pretend that the world wasn't falling apart, that Hell wasn't truly the suffering that they had always been promised. He hated every moment that he had lost being alive, because he had thought that was true Hell. His overdose had been a result of that pain, unintentional, yet intentional all the same, trying to escape the torment.

Only to be thrust into it tenfold.

He had stayed silent for a moment, Angel studying Blitz the way that Blitz studied him. A fierce understanding, not needing words. Angel didn't know if he believed in fate, per se, but something had made it so they had met that day. Out of all the souls of Hell. Especially knowing imps could travel between rings, it had been something to draw Blitzo to the Pride Ring at that very moment. And maybe this was it.

He was admittedly terrified; terrified for the first time when it came to using his body as a tool to tell his story. Because he knew as soon as he kissed this man - there was no going back. He knew that every secret feeling he had kept locked up was going to come spilling out, and Angel's heart would once again be at risk. A bleeding soul, desperate to be loved for who he was. For all of him, every broken piece.

But he could tell Blitz felt the same. A need to be understood, despite his brokenness. And that was what had thrust him into action. His upper hands shooting forward, grabbing the other by the front of his shirt, tugging the smaller man towards him. Lower arms wrapped around Blitz' waist, pulling him against his fluffy torso, as he unabashedly slammed his lips into the other. Maybe not the most delicate, but certainly passionate. A kiss that said he was here. He had him. He accepted him. He maybe even loved him.

I ain't too good at expressing stuff unless it's with my body.

Fuck.

Blitz understood that. He understood that far, far too well. The words hit like blows.

When Angel knelt so as not to loom over him, it had quieted him. He went still, watching him, on the verge of breaking--but only on the verge. Blitz didn't know what it was about this guy that made him so easy to open up to--maybe a sense of shared suffering? That they had enough in common, they could understand? Because Angel sure as fuck seemed to immediately get it, to get everything Blitz said, even the shit he only halfway explained.

The imp stepped in closer, trusting him.

He hated this. Hated crying in front of anyone. As far as imps went, Blitz was peak masculinity and beauty rolled into one; he wasn't the type who was supposed to cry. He shouldn't be broken. He shouldn't be so deeply fucking flawed. But he was, and he hated it, and was ashamed of it, ashamed of so much--

Only, when Angel looked at him like he understood? The shame didn't cut quite as deeply.

"Yeah," Blitz agreed, nodding. He swallowed hard and wiped quickly at his eyes, trying to put on a bright smile. "Yeah, you can fucking kiss me."

It was probably safer for both of them if they communicated through the physical, if they danced around the truth. Because while Angel cared about what happened to him, Blitz didn't. If he died, he died. He'd be away from all of this. He'd be free. He wouldn't be trapped anymore, he wouldn't have to think or feel, he could just be free, and so he was willing, absolutely willing, to risk death if he could help his friend. If Valentino needed an ass-beating, if that would get him to lighten up on Angel? It was worth risking everything for--because really, what was there to lose?

I would risk everything to help you, Blitz thought, golden eyes burning fiercely as he studied this friend he had never expected, never looked for. You're worth it. And if in the end we were both free? Even if that meant I couldn't see you anymore? That would be worth it, too.

Someday, one of them was going to be happy. He clenched his fists, determining that. Someday. And it was going to be Angel. Whatever it took, Blitz was going to find a way to help him.

"Yeah, but the fuckin' difference is yeh' could die, Blitz!" His voice strained, not wanting to interrupt the other, but that was it, wasn't it? If Blitzo were to die, then Angel didn't know what would happen. He didn't know what happened if hellborns, or imps, or goetia, or anyone else that wasn't a sinner were to actively die in Hell. He could double die, sure, and he would cease to exist. Or as far as they knew. But he could be killed, and still regenerate. With few exceptions.

He wanted to go off about this, but he was floored by what the imp was saying to him. He had known a lot about Blitzo since they had first met, but there were still things neither of them had shared with the other. While Angel had yet to explain that Valentino literally beat the ever-loving shit out of him, Blitzo had not mentioned this very important piece of his life. Leaving Angel absolutely stunned, mismatched hues wide.

"Please don't march in and beat the shit out of Val." He mumbled, going down to his knees in front of the other. He knew there was the whole don't talk to short people this way blah blah bullshit, but he wanted to be on Blitz' level for this. He wanted to meet him eye to eye, and tell him he understood. Sitting his butt back on folded legs, he opened his mouth, ready to say that he got it, that he was there for him, that he wasn't going -

"Can ah' kiss yeh'?" Well damn, that....that wasn't in the plan. He hadn't had much of a plan to begin with, but that had blurted out far too easily, blushing slightly and glancing away. "Ah' mean, ah' get if yeh' don't wanna, but all of that....ah' get it. Ah' understand it. Ah' empathize with it. Ah' ain't too good at expressin' stuff unless it's wit' mah' body, but right now ah' just....ah' really wanna just cup yeh' face and kiss yeh'...."

Why was bro so cunty in these photos?

Something I love about Blitz and Millie--

When Millie was fighting to get Moxxie back so he didn't have to marry Chaz, Blitz stayed out of her way, but was always watching. He joined the fight what, once and a half? When she was momentarily knocked down, he stepped in just to provide a distraction long enough for her to get back on her feet and continue absolutely destroying Crimson's idiots. When she was ready to take the car, he was there and kicked the door shut for her. They're good at knowing where the other is on the battlefield and they respect each other's skills.

I love that. I love it so much, love that Blitz might be an idiot, but he knows how incredibly badass Millie is. He knows that in general, Millie doesn't need anyone's help when she's in the mood to fight. Millie sure as fuck doesn't need anyone to hold her hand.

That woman is a powerhouse. Dainty, feminine, dangerous, capable, kind, and ruthless. Blitz respects the shit out of her. He doesn't put her on a pedestal, doesn't think she can do it all on her own, he's ready to help however he can whenever she needs it, but he knows that Millie's limits are so damned far above most people's, and honestly, Blitz loves that about her.

Any time there's a scene where the I.M.P crew are fighting together, just flawlessly having each other's backs, staying back when needed, counting each other's bullets, working seamlessly together, I love it so damn much, because that shit is hard. It's hard to fight together. It really does take time, it takes training together, it takes practice, it takes trust. And so every time any of them show what they can do together, how they can support each other and be so much stronger together? It just gives me so much joy.

Okay, I'll hush. I just. Yessss. I love them, Your Honor.