Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rain. Heavy and humid. Ugh, this time of year always sucked. And, when his father was stressing to keep his family afloat, that made things worse.  

Moxxie walked down the street, rain pelting him. His suit was practically soaked through- not that it fit him well to begin with. It was his father's - the one he had started his family with. A red, puffed shirt, the collar far too large for his neck. The sleeves ran well past his wrists, only stopping once they reached his palms. The pants weren't much better. He'd tripped over them trying to run after some guy who had the misfortune of owing his dad money. Ale and Butch had to run after him. He didn't know if they caught him.

Frankly, he didn't really care. His dad would chew him out all the same.

He…

Why couldn't he be a better son?

This was the family business. It was his only choice.  

Ya don't abandon ya family.

His dad had beat that into him. After…

After mom left. Things had been getting worse. He didn't know why she had left, but he… He was starting to hate her for it. Why would she leave? Leave him and dad alone? Things had only gotten worse since she left. His dad had become more violent. More angry. Less forgiving, but not at all less calculated. He supposed that was the difference between him and his dad. His dad had a calling to their work. A true nature. He-

His pants leg caught under his shoe as he stepped. He careened downwards. Mox tried to catch himself with his hands, but…

He smacked against the cracked, rough, wet concrete. Face first.

"Fffmmm…" He groaned. At least the first time was dirt. The second, well… he was gonna need a minute before he got up. Just needed to… stop feeling so much pain.  

It was a good minute or two of him just laying there. His dad would kill him if he saw him like this, but…

Huh…

He could feel his pocket moving slightly, his wallet shifting against his leg.

No. Someone was shifting it against his leg. His hand reached up, swiping half heartedly against whatever was on him. He connected with something, but that didn't stop them.

"Hey…"

He was hoping that would be enough to run them off. But, he felt his wallet slide out of his pocket.

That spurred him into action

"Hey!" He swiped again, this time trying to grab it. Moxxie picked his head up, a dark figure scurrying down an alleyway. He stumbled up, his shoes squeaking as he broke into a sprint after them. His dad might literally kill him if he lost his collections for the night.

"Stop! I need that!" He called out, the figure continuing to run. Moxxie followed close behind. They were on all fours, but he was making ground.

"It's not gonna be good when I catch up! You know who my father is?!"

The figure skidded as they turned down a divide in the alleyway. He followed them. A dead-end, thank Satan. Moxxie slowed, as the figure clawed and scratched at the wall.

"Hooh… you're… really fast," He huffed. "Now… just give me my wallet, and-"

He stopped suddenly. Moxxie finally got a good look at who'd snatched his wallet.

It was a hellhound. A hellhound pup. Couldn't have been much more than eight or nine. She scratched against the wall, trying desperately to climb up it.

"Hey…" He slowly stepped up behind her. Her ears twitched as she turned suddenly. His wallet was between her teeth. A low growl escaped her. The poor girl's fur was soaked through. It was badly matted and knotted in places. Her hair was long, unkempt.

"Hey, look, I'm not gonna hurt you, okay?" He held up his palms, kneeling. His suit was already dirty, a little mud wasn't gonna hurt. "I just… I need that back."

She continued growling, her form lowering. Her tail hiked up, like she was ready to pounce. The girl's clothes were in tatters - it'd be more appropriate to call them rags. He almost pitied her.

"Look, what can I do for you to get that back? I - I can't give you cash from it," He admitted, a pang of guilt forming in him. "C - Can I get you a bite to eat? Something hot. I know a diner down the street, they're pretty good."

Her growling lowered for a moment, ears twitching. She slowly rose, standing up. The girl did not look happy to be caught. Couldn't say he blamed her.

She grabbed the wallet, pulling it from her teeth, and tossing it towards him. It landed a bit short, in a puddle in front of him.  

"Thank you," He spoke, reaching for it. Right as he was distracted, she bolted, back on all fours.  

"Hey, wait-"

Before he had much chance to stop her, she had made it back down the alley, turning back towards the way they had come, and sprinting off. He grabbed his wallet, slipping it into his pocket as he stood. That had been… weird.  

Seriously, what?

His dad had told him about pickpocket schemes they did before, but they would've recognized him if it was one of his dad's men. Further still, a hellhound pup? He had never heard of that being used. Usually it was some new guy who wanted to earn. They were in the middle of Imp City, another family wouldn't have been trying to move in, and they especially wouldn't have tried it with him, not this far into their territory…

He'd need to think about it more. Nothing he could do now. The kid was probably long gone, he had barely been able to keep up with her before.  

His phone buzzed in his pocket. His dad. Crumbs.

He flicked the phone open, pressing it up against his ear.

"Hey, dad-"

"Where tha fuck are you?!" He screamed into the phone. "You were s'pposed to come back with Ale! I swear, your ass better be here in the next five minutes, or I'm gonna wring your fuckin' neck!"

Shit.

"Coming, sir!"

Chapter Text

"Sir, I-" 

"Shuddup,"

His father commanded, standing in front of him.  He stared down at him.  That same awful, disapproving stare.  He thought he'd get used to it eventually, but… no.  Never. 

He had been all but dragged into his office.  Mox had gotten nasty looks from basically every mafioso in the building as soon as he entered.  The nastiest of which came from his dad.  Brow furled and teeth grinding against each other.  He already knew before he got there he was in trouble, but seeing his dad made him realize just how much he was in.

"Wallet, now."

Moxxie did as he was commanded, reaching into his pocket and pulling it out.  He held it out for his dad, who promptly snatched it out of his hands.  His dad opened it, pulling out every bill, before dropping it on the floor.  Mox knelt down, picking it up.  He was still soaked, along with his wallet, he didn't want to make his dad any angrier.  Though, that felt like an impossibility at that point.  

Okay.  Everything was there.  It would be good.  He'd be okay.

Slowly, he watched him flick through the bills.  

"Good, so ya weren't stupid enough to go 'n spend any of it." He passed the fold of cash to Alessio.  "Just stupid enough to ignore tha boss of your family."

Moxxie stood, as stiff as a statue.  He hoped he'd be able to just… fade into the background.  Let his father say whatever he wanted about how much he had messed up.  His eyes drifted downwards.

"Fuckin' look at'cha," He pressed his hand against Moxxie's shoulder.  To his shame, he flinched.  

"Fuckin' got mud on em, suits soaked clean through.  Not even mentionin' ya fuckin shoes." 

He was a mess, in truth.  Not one thing his father had said was a lie.

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Yeah, yer fuckin' sorry alright… Just what tha fuck do ya think we're doin' here, Mox?  Runnin' a fuckin clown show?"

"No sir."

"Oh no, clearly ya must think that," His father took a step closer.  "Yer out there makin' a joke outta every one o' us.  Fuckin' tripping over yourself, shakin' whenever ya get'cha hands on a piece, walkin' around like that.  This is just a big fuckin' joke to you."

He didn't speak.  Moxxie knew well enough to shut up when his father was this angry.  It had taken him a few years of mob life to learn when to speak and when not to… but, he had learned.

"Got anythin' ta say, ya clown?"

"No, sir."

"Then get the fuck outta my sight."

Moxxie turned, walking away from his dad.  Ale opened the door for him, pulling it shut once he was put.  Most of the other mobsters had cleared out of the main room, either headed out to start their day, or heading home to rest.  Unfortunately, he didn't have that luxury.  And he really needed it.

He was exhausted.  His legs, arms, shoulders, hands, and just about everything else was sore.  He could feel his cheek swelling from his fall earlier in the night- or, morning now.  Mox could smell how badly he needed to bathe, just based on his smell alone.  It had been well over a day since he had last seen his bed, and he was sorely missing it.

But… he knew better.  Whenever his father was angry with him, he knew his wrath could manifest in unexpected ways.  Sometimes, it'd be something as simple as a slap to the face.  Others, he'd humiliate him in front of the gang- not that he really cared what they thought about him.  Regardless, he knew that he should remove himself from the equation.

He went through the house, heading to the east end of the house.  Even if he couldn't sleep yet, he knew he needed a change of clothes.  His dad had made that much clear.  He cut through the living room.  Maybe he could hand his clothes up by the fireplace, let them try out before-

"Moxxie!  How ya doin'?"

Oh.  Darn it.

Chaz.  Sitting on the couch.  No doubt lounging around as opposed to making collections, like everyone else.

"Hello." He spoke, hoping to avoid him if he moved fast.  Too bad for him, Chaz was faster.  He hopped up off the couch, stepping in front of him.

"Look, I been thinkin'-" 

"No."

He already knew what Chaz was gonna talk about.  Robbing some bank outside of Imp City.  The place was way too risky, and far-removed from any place the gang had connections.  Besides, if he got caught, he knew there'd be Hell to pay.

"Aw, c'mon man, it's a quick job.  In and out in an hour, tops."

"No.  We've already talked about this."

"Mox, ya can't just-" "I can, and I am, Chaz." 

He stepped to the side, starting to walk past him.  Chaz grabbed his shoulder, stepping behind Mox, pressing his chest against his back.

"C'mon, Moxxie Poxxie… just a quick job, and we'll be rich.  Not to mention…" He leaned against his ear.  "There'd be plenty of jobs we could do once we got back to my place."

A shiver ran down his spine, half cold.  Chaz was an absolute sex pest of the highest variety.  He and Mox had been… "dating" for a year now, though he wouldn't have called it that.  With his father constantly looking over Moxxie, they had to pick and choose when and where they'd meet up.  Usually some place out of Imp City, and they only ever had sex.  Mox… well, he knew his dad wouldn't like it if he ever found out, to say the least.  He wasn't supposed to be like this, was he?

"Get… your hands off me." He hissed.  Chaz obliged, pulling away.  "You know what my dad would do if he ever caught us?  Idiot."

"Oh, please," The larger demon rolled his eyes.  He turned back towards the couch.  "Lemme know when ya grow a pair, Mox.  Then we can have some real fun."

Moxxie quickly walked away, trying his best to ignore his boyfriend's comment.  He turned, heading towards his room.  Finally, he made it to the end of the hallway.  He grabbed onto the handle, twisting it and pushing the door open. 

His room was hot, and a bit messy.  He hadn't had the money to pay his dad for the repairs needed to fix the cooling to his room, so it was almost always unbearably hot.  The bed was unmade from the prior day, with a few empty plates and cans from his lunches the past few days. He closed the door behind him, starting to peel off the soaked clothes. Mox started with the coat, before moving to the shirt.  He folded those two, and carefully placed them on the floor.  He'd probably need to get them dry cleaned… if he could afford it.

The pants would probably be a different story.  Mud had stained the knees of his pants brown. He'd need to pay extra for them to get it out… more cash he didn't have to spend.

Once he had gotten the wet clothes off, he opened his closet.  That was still neat, at least.  He pulled out his outfit - the one he preferred when he wasn't on the job.  A black vest with a red undershirt, and black pants.  They weren't much different from his work clothes, and despite the similar appearance, these fit him far more comfortably than his father's old suit.  

He collected his dirty clothes off the ground, opening the door and heading back out of his room.  The family owned a laundromat a few blocks away from the main compound, Mox figured it'd be worth a shot there, where he wouldn't need to pay for them to be cleaned.  Wouldn't be as thorough as a dry cleaning, but he didn't have much choice.

—

He grunted as he pushed his shoulder into the washing machine's door.  Darn place was so dingy and run-down, half of the machines didn't work.  Place was mostly for money laundering, but still - could've at least made it look functional.

Finally, one hard push into the door, and the lock on it snapped shut.  He sighed quietly, tapping in his usual settings at the top.  Cold, low spin, an hour.  Slowly, the machine whirled to life.  Gears and metal scratched against each other in the machine, a loud thumping escaping it as water mixed with the soiled clothing.  Finally… he felt safe leaving it once he knew the clothes were starting to clean.  Who'd wanna steal wet clothes?  Besides, anyone trying to steal them would have a tough time getting the door open.  He wasn't really sure how he was gonna get it open… but, he'd cross that bridge when he got to it.

He sighed quietly, rubbing his eyes.  Mox really needed to sleep… Once the clothes were finished washing and drying, it'd be midday.  He hoped his father would be cooled off by then, or at least too busy to bother with taking out his anger on him.

His stomach growled, rumbling quietly.   Right, he hadn't eaten since yesterday.  Well… the diner was right down the street.  They'd be serving breakfast.  An omelette with some sausage sounded amazing.

He turned, heading out of the laundromat.  It had stopped raining, thankfully.  The streets were still wet, but at least he didn't have to worry about soaking two outfits today.  

Moxxie headed down the street, yawning quietly.  Maybe some tea would be a good idea too… an omelette with mushrooms and peppers, fresh chives on top, Italian sausage on the side, toast, and a warm cup of tea with a lemon.  Sounded like a perfect -

As he turned the corner towards the dinner, he nearly collided with a garbage can, turned over on its side.  A long, gray tail stuck out of the opened end, garbage and trash spread out across the concrete in front of it.  He recognized it.

"Hey?"

The tail suddenly hiked up, a loud bang coming from the can.

"Ow!" The girl shouted.  She scurried out, falling out into the road.  Her hand went to her head, rubbing it before opening her eyes. The hellhound stared up at him.  Sure enough, it had been the same one that lifted his wallet.

"You okay?  Thought I recognized you."

She stumbled up onto all fours, preparing to run.

"Hey, hey- wait, I'm not mad.  Just- wait."

The hellhound growled, her brow furling as she stared him down.  Was she… looking in the trash for something to eat?  The contents that had come out of the can were mostly inedible.  Soaked newspapers, empty cans and bottles… There was half a slice of pizza, which looked like a bite had been taken out of it.  He felt queasy just looking at it.

"Are you… hungry?"

She kept herself low to the ground, baring her teeth.

"This is the diner I told you about.  I can… er, I can get you something to eat if you want." He smiled.  "I owe you one."

The hellhound glared at him, keeping her abrasive appearance.  He stared back at her, trying to appear as sincere as possible.  Mox didn't wanna hurt her - far from it.  He made a deal with her; his wallet for a meal.  She had done it, even if she didn't stick around to collect.  He meant to keep his end of the deal.

Slowly, she rose back up onto her legs. 

"Fine." She spoke, before turning, walking towards the diner.  He followed behind her.

The pair entered the diner.  It was old, much like most places in this part of the city.  While the place wasn't exactly run-down, its best days were far behind it.  The white and green tiled floor was cracked in places.  Its booths looked like they hadn't been updated in the past decade - maybe not even cleaned, for some of them.  But, the place pulled in money, and it was on Mox's route.  He wasn't in a position to complain.

Though, the owner was.  He was an older imp, hair graying at the roots.  The man glared at him as he approached.

"I already paid for the week." He complained, leaning against the counter.  "You're gonna have to wait if you want cash - I ain't got any to give ya right now."

"I know, relax.  Came to get a bite."

"Excuse me?!  Ain't enough for ya to strong-arm me, gotta eat me outta house 'n home too?!"

Moxxie sighed, more frustrated with himself than the owner.  He knew he was right.  Guy was just trying to make a living, like he was.  But… this was how it worked.  He paid, and Moxxie collected.  

"Just get us some food, alright?  And keep your mouth shut."

Mox turned, stepping away from the counted before he could protest.  He headed towards the closest booth, sliding into the seat.  The leather was sticky, and he could feel his pants getting caught on gum stuck under the table.  Wasn't the best place to eat at, but the food was good enough.  

The hellhound climbed up into the seat.  She was tall enough to sit in it normally, but, well… she was looking for something, he thought.  Sniffing around.  Once she was satisfied with… whatever she was inspecting the seat for, she sat down.  Her head barely reached over the table.

… just what the hell had he been thinking?

He didn't know this girl - the only reason he did know her was because she pickpocketed him.  Not only that, but he took her to a mobbed up diner to eat, since he could get it for free that way.  Stupid and cheap.  Maybe he should try to find her parents?  She was out all night long, they gotta be worried sick.

"What's your name?"

"Food first."

"Huh?"

"Food first, then I'll tell you."

"Ah… alright," He spoke quietly.  His eyes turned towards the counter.  The old man was at the grill behind the counter, with some toast in a pan.  Probably crisping it up just enough that they wouldn't notice it was old.

"Well, what do you want?"

"Sausage and bacon.  Lots."

Heh, sounded like his dad.

"That all?  You're getting a free pass here, whatever you want."

The girl paused for a moment, glancing down to her lap, before looking back up.

"Some orange juice?"

"Sure.  I'll get on it,"

Moxxie scooted out of the boost, resisting the urge to tremble as he felt something sticky rub against his knee.  He stood up heading towards the counter.  The owner side-eyed him, a hateful, angry glare.

"Need some bacon and sausage, an omelette, and some orange juice."

"Want tha fuckin' shirt off my back, too?"

"Just do it." He huffed.  The owner turned, staring him down.  Like he wanted to grab the nearest knife and give Moxxie some holes in his chest.  But… he turned, walking back to the other side of the counter.  He knelt down a door creaking open, before he stood back up, a gallon judge of orange juice and a pair of small cups in his hand.  It was decorated with some sort of design.  An orange sun, with the black silhouette of a horse in front of it.

"... really?" He turned up to him.  "You don't have any glasses?"

"Couldn't afford 'em, you fucks are bleeding this place dry.  Don't like it, find some other place that'll let a degenerate like you 'n ya father eat her for free."

Okay, that was enough.  

He reached over the counter, grabbing the man's horn and pulling him close.  His chest slammed into the other side of the counter.

"Talk all you want about me, but leave my father out of it.  I am in no mood to deal with you right now." He leaned into his ear, forcing the man's head against the counter.  The imp's groaned, his back and neck cracking.  "You're going to cook us breakfast, keep your mouth shut, and maybe I won't make you pay double next week.  Got it?"

The old man groaned, before nodding.  Mox let go of his horn, allowing him to stand back up.  He quickly squirmed away, back over to the grill.  Why did the guy make him do that?  Could've just kept his mouth shut, done what he was told, and come away better than before.  Hell, he was gonna give him some slack on his payment next week.  But, not now.  He hated hurting people, but in this line of work, it was almost always hurting someone.  Mox had learned to suppress it - to choke down those feelings of guilt.  

He grabbed the jug, giving it a shake.  No lumps or masses floating around.  Next, he unscrewed the cap, giving the inside a sniff.  Still smelled like orange juice.  Okay, good.  This place usually cleaned out their fridges before something spoiled, but… it didn't hurt to check.  He grabbed the pair of cups, turning and heading back to the booth.

"Alright… here you go," He sat the cups down, tipping the jug and filling the pair of them up.  The hellhound grabbed hers as soon as it was full, her hands barely managing to fit around it.  She gulped down the cup, not stopping till it was empty.  

"Thirsty, huh?"

The hellhound nodded.  Mox filled her cup again, before setting the jug down.  He slid back into the booth, filling his own glass with the juice.   Orange juice wasn't too bad - a bit sweet for his tastes, but he didn't want to ask the owner to make him some tea after what happened.  Had already caused enough trouble.

A few more minutes passed between the pair.  Silent, aside from the sizzling of the grill and the hellhound drinking her orange juice.  She grinned every time she took a sip.  Like she had been greeted by an old friend, with every little gulp she took.

Before long, the old man came out from behind the counter.  He had a full plate of bacon and sausage, a small basket of toast, and Moxxie's omelette.  He sat them down, before stepping away.  The hellhound didn't even wait for him to turn around before diving into the sausage, almost literally.  She didn't bother picking it up, instead biting it off the plate and swallowing.  The girl ate like she hadn't seen food in days.  He wanted to grab a slice or two of bacon to go with his omelette, but… Well, she seemed like she needed the food more.  Besides, he was worried his hand might come back with a finger or two missing.

The owner had already sat out his knife and fork beside the omelette, so he supposed their "chat" had worked.  He picked the utensils up, going to work at his own food, but at a much slower pace than the hellhound.  Cutting off a piece, he stabbed his fork into the omelette and bit into it.  Damn, he couldn't tell if the guy was a good cook, or if he was just really hungry, but it tasted amazing!

He cut off another piece once he had swallowed that one, starting to go through his own plate.  Though, not nearly as fast as the hellhound.  She had gotten through half the plate of sausage, only stopping to swallow and get some more orange juice.  

"So, what's your name?"

She didn't answer him until she had gotten through two more sausages, and a cup of orange juice.  The hellhound took a deep breath, seemingly the first one in minutes.

"Loona."

"I'm Moxxie."

Loona just gave him a quick nod, before starting to devour her food again.  This time, she switched over to the bacon, getting multiple strips with one bite. 

"You from around here?"

She rolled her eyes, having to stop for a second time to address him.  

"Nope."

"Why were you out so late?  It was like… 6 in the morning."

"Looking for food." She spoke, grabbing another strip of bacon and shoving it in her mouth.  "I shaw yhou layhing on thee grhound, ahnd-" The girl coughed suddenly, bits of bacon flying onto the table below her.  She grabbed her glass, taking a few quick gulps of orange juice.  The hellhound took another deep breath once she had finished.  "And I thought you might have some money I could use."

He nodded, swallowing a piece of his omelette before speaking.  "You're pretty young to be picking pockets.  Where's your parents?"

She paused, her eyes widening for a moment, before she growled. "Don't know, don't care."

Wait… what?

She went back to eating, a bit more voraciously.

She… didn't know where her parents were.  Young kid, barely big enough for her head to be above the booth, out in the streets in tattered clothes, looking in the garbage for food.

"Well, you gotta have some place to stay, right?"

Another quiet growl escaped her.  That answered his question.

She was homeless.  Orphaned, and homeless.  An orphaned, homeless child.  One he had chased after when she tried to steal his wallet to get herself some food.

Fuck.

Moxxie stopped eating.  He had lost his appetite.  Pushing his plate to the side, he sat up, looking down towards Loona.

"Do you… have anywhere to stay?" He asked.  She shook her head from side to side as she pulled her head up from the freshly cleared plate.  "There are pounds that would -"

"No!" She shouted, ears hiking up.  Loona bared her teeth, legs scooting up onto the seat as she got prepared to run. "I'm not going back to the pound!"

"Okay!  Okay, sorry!"

"You're not gonna call them, right?!" She shouted, her voice trembling.  Her tail hiked up, the hairs that weren't matted standing up on end.  Clearly, she wasn't gonna go anywhere resembling a pound. 

"No, no, I'm not, promise."

She growled, baring her teeth.  Okay, no pounds then.

But… Well, what else did she have?

Imp City wasn't exactly the safest place, even for someone like Moxxie.  A little girl, with no place to stay, no one looking out for her?  It was nearly suicidal.  He couldn't just - just let her go after they finished there. 

"Do you have any place you stay?"

"In the spot where you chased me."

Oh, so he had ran her out of where she stayed.  Yeah, Moxxie was a major asshole.

Ugh… what could he do?  His dad wasn't gonna just accept him bringing in another mouth to feed.  Hell, he barely accepted when Moxxie asked if he could stay in the house once he turned 18.  He only let him do it once he said he'd pay rent.  Mox could barely afford to pay for himself, and he knew his father would increase it if he brought someone else in.

But… he couldn't just turn his back on her.  She didn't have anybody else in this screwed-up city.  No one to look after her.  He wouldn't just leave her, pretend like they had never spoken.

Maybe… maybe he could make it work?

"Alright… look, here's what I'm gonna do for you," He spoke, leaning towards her.  "I'm gonna stop by that alleyway before I start working from now on.  I'll bring some food and water, plus other stuff if I can get my hands on it."

She stared up at him.  Her head tilted slightly.

"Why?" She asked, genuinely confused.

"Because I wanna help, and that's the only way I can." He continued.  "Only thing I'm gonna ask is that you don't pickpocket anymore.  It's way too dangerous."

"But, I've done it before."

"Doesn't matter.  It just takes one time for it to backfire on you.  Just - trust me, okay?"

She stared up at him, before nodding.  Thank Satan.  He breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

"Okay… good." 

Moxxie slid out from behind the table.  

"Thank you.  Now, you should probably head back to that spot.  I'll be back to visit later tonight, alright?"

She nodded.  "Alright."

Loona scooted across the seat, walking back towards the door.  Moxxie followed behind her.  He wanted to make sure she got back safe.  Might delay him on getting his suit clean for the night, but he didn't really care.  He had to be sure she got back safe.  Mox couldn't bring her home, but he could make sure she was safe.  He had to.  If he didn't look after her, no one else would.

Chapter Text

"Okay… here you go."

Mox grunted as knelt down in front of Loona.  He sat a small box down in front of her.  It had been a bit difficult to get his hands on some stuff, but… Well, he got it done.

Inside were a few cans of food, and a few bottles of water.  He got her some plastic forks and spoons, but he didn't think she'd end up using them, if the visit the day prior had been any indication. Yesterday had been… rough.  He had stumbled out of bed half an hour after he got into it.  If he was gonna take care of Loona, then he couldn't afford to sleep in.  He'd managed to scrounge together some cash to get her another hot meal, and a small bottle of orange juice, but not much more than that.

"What are… these?"

Loona grabbed a can, holding it up.

"M-aaa… maamone-"

"Mammon," Mox knelt down, grabbing a can.  "'Mammon's Magnificent Spaghetti."

It most definitely was not magnificent.  The can had the sin's face plastered on it, with a small section for his jester.  "WIN A NIGHT WITH FIZZAROLLI - NO LIMITS!"

Ugh, the guy was a creep, and expensive.  One can cost more than he earned after weeks of collections.  Only reason he was even able to snag one was because his dad worked with him on occasion.  The two got along pretty well, until it came to payment.  They'd go back and forth on the price of a service, each one trying to get the best deal they possibly could. One time, the pair had gotten into an argument over the phone when Mammon's clown let his dad know his visit wasn't free.  His dad eventually paid up - and Mox didn't eat for a few days after that.

"What's spaghetti?"

His attention turned back towards the hellhound.  He almost scoffed.  Guess he was too used to being around so many mobsters that the concept of someone being ignorant of Italian foods was hard to believe.

"It's pasta." He spoke, though quickly, he realized that she didn't know what that was either.  "It's… er, it's got red sauce in it, with little chunks of meat, and noodles.  It's usually supposed to be eaten warm, but… Well, I can't help you there."

"Sounds weird…"

"You should give it a try, I think you'll like it."

Mox put the can back in the box, reaching down beneath a pair of bottles.  Her clothes were in tatters, and it was starting to get cold out, so…

"I got you a jacket, too."

He pulled out a small, cotton hoodle.  There was a design on it at one point, but years of usage had peeled it away.  He couldn't remember if it was another piece of Fizzarolli merchandise his dad got him from Mammon, or if it was something his mother picked up for him.

Loona grabbed it, holding it up, her eyes studying the fabric.  Her nose twitched, giving it a quick sniff, before deciding to try it out.  She slid her arm inside one sleeve, then the other.  It was a little big for her… but, it was better than nothing.  Her fingers went to the zipper, slowly pulling up on it, hearing it click.  Once she reached the top, she dragged it back down.

"I can zip it up if-"

His phone buzzed.  Darn it, he had hoped he had come early enough to get some of her stuff set up.  He got her some blankets, and had meant to empty the box out for her.  But, he knew Alessio would go to his father if he was late.

He stood up, slipping his hand into pocket.  "Okay, I uh, I gotta run.  I'll be back later, okay?" 

"Okay." Loona spoke, beginning to dig through the box.  "Bye."

Mox didn't have time to say it back - phone was already on the third buzz.  He answered it as he stepped out of the alleyway, holding it up to his ear.

"Yeah?"

"Routes are 5th, 7th, and 10th Street.  Got ten stops to make in total.  Come back to me this time."

"Got it."

A quiet beep escaped the phone as Ale ended the call.  Okay, three streets to cover over 5 blocks.  He'd need to hurry if he wanted to get them all, but he could do it.

—

Moxxie grunted as he walked - or, rather, limped, down the street.  A pair of debtors had gotten unhappy with him coming to collect.  One, he could usually handle by himself.  But two?

Well, by the time Ale and Butch showed up, the pair had already stomped on his ribs and taken a bat to his legs.  He was honestly shocked he could still walk on it.

Thankfully, Alessio let him go for the night.  Mox had to argue for it - but, he managed to convince him.  Probably was glad to.  Like his dad said, he was representing them out there.  If anyone saw he got beaten up by a pair of shop owners…

He needed a break.  A real break.  He hadn't stopped working since his mom-

No.  His mother , left.  Just… disappeared one night.  Didn't say goodbye, leave a note, nothing.  He got up one morning, and she was gone.  Closet emptied, perfumes and makeup were missing, and her suitcase was nowhere to be seen.  Just… left.  Without telling anyone.

Without telling him .  He… guessed he wasn't owed it, but…

How could she do that?

How could she just leave him?  She knew how dad was - is.  He wouldn't calm down for anything - except her.  Even then, he'd be seething silently, but…

It was scarier without her around the house. And…

He missed her.  Moxxie missed his mother so much, it hurt.  He hated and loved her, both in equal measure.  There had been so many times where he had needed advice, someone to talk to.  Hell, a shoulder to cry on.  But, that person wasn't his father.  He knew it'd never be.  But, it could've been his mother.

If she were there.

Darn it… he could feel tears starting to pool in his eyes.  This job was killing him.  Physically and emotionally.  Every time he saw a person's scared face as he shook them down for everything they had, he felt his heart ache.  Like a piece of him had died, and he had deserved it to.  He shook whenever he held a gun because he knew the terror it brought.  They were in Hell, sure, but he didn't need to be evil.  He couldn't be cruel, cold-hearted like his dad.  It wasn't in him, it never had been.

Not to mention the physicality of it all.  He'd be lucky if he got a full night's sleep per week.  And, like tonight had shown, there were times where he'd be beaten.  He didn't wanna fight them.  They were just trying to make a living.  He'd always heard his father say, "that's the way things are."  But, why?  Why did they have to be?  Did he have to hurt someone to be someone?  He didn't-

"Moxxie?"

He stopped, taking a few sharp, quick breaths.  His eyes darted around, his hand reaching down to his hip, ready to grab his piece.  Moxxie scanned the street, until-

Loona, she was standing at the edge of the alleyway.  Still wearing the hoodie. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

"Hey, Loona.  Thought you'd be-"

He took a step forward.  As he got near her, his knee popped, rolling in place.  He grunted, nearly falling over.  Loona took a step back.

"You okay?"

"Yeah… yep, just-" He grunted, pushing himself off the wall and forcing himself to walk up to her.  "Work."

She turned as he stepped up to him, walking backwards towards the end of the alley.

"Oh. Like yesterday?"

"Yeah, just like-" He suppressed a groan as he knee popped again, leaning against the wall.  "Yesterday."

"Does this mean I'll get bacon again?"

He chuckled.  "If I could, I would.  Could use some bacon too."

"You like bacon too?" She smiled, tail swishing in excitement.

"Heh, yeah." He smiled as they approached the end of the alley way.  "Thought you'd be asleep by now."

"No.  Don't like to sleep in the dark.  Not without someone with me."

"Yeah?" His hand slid across the brick wall, before he leaned against it.  Mox's knee was throbbing, he needed some relief off it.  Just for a little bit.  He slid down the wall, trying to keep his leg straight as he did.  Last thing he needed was to have a messed-up leg.  No way he'd have the time to heal and rest up.

"Yeah." Her voice shifted slightly, head turning down.  She sat down beside him, a few feet away.

"You… wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay."

…

He wasn't very good at this, was he?  Mox knew that something was wrong, but he didn't know how to bring it up.  The girl had already been through enough, he didn't wanna give her more grief.

"You… like your hoodie?"

"Yeah, it's okay." She nodded, pressing a claw into the dirt.  Gently, she dragged it across the dirt, drawing… something.  He couldn't really tell, it was too dark, he was in pain, and tired.

"You try that spaghetti yet?"

"Yeah.  It was okay."

"Heh, yeah, thought you might say that." He grinned, leaning his head back.  His horns prevented him from looking up, but there was a decent view of the moon from his spot.

The pair just… sat there.  Loona drawing idly in the dirt, while Moxxie stared up into the sky.  There were stars out.  The past few nights, clouds had been covering them up.  But… not tonight.

"Moxxie?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"...huh?"

He turned down towards her, looking at her.

"It's been two days, and you still came.  Why?"

Loona's claw was still buried in the dirt, busy drawing.  It took Mox a moment, but he managed to see what it was. One stick figure, behind lines- bars. 

"Well, I can't just leave you out here."

"Why not?"

Why not? 

"Well… because, I couldn't just leave you out here."

"Yeah… heard that one before."

She kept drawing, though it became a bit harder for Mox to decipher.  Loona was just drawing… circles.  Jagged, imperfect circles, looping into each other.

"What do you mean?"

She brought her knees up to her chest, hugging them with one arm while she continued to draw.  Her head lowered, ears dropping flat against her head.  She turned her head away from him, resting her cheek on her knees.

"Loona?"

She pulled her hand up from the dirt, wrapping it around her knees.  Curled up, turned away from him.

"It's… okay, if you don't wanna talk about it."

His voice was tense, quiet.  Awkward.  He didn't know what else to say in a situation like this.  Mox had never had any younger siblings.  He didn't know what to say when a kid was like this…

What could he say, really?

"Is there… Is there anything I can do to help?"

Another few moments of silence passed between the pair.  Loona took a quiet breath, before turning her head, facing the dirt.

"Can you stay here tonight?" She spoke, her voice shaking slightly.  "I don't wanna be alone again."

"Of course." 

Moxxie didn't even need to think about his answer.  He felt bad that he'd left her alone out there for so long already… if she wanted him to stay with her, he'd do it. 

Loona pulled her arms away from her knees, using them to scooted around the wall.  She stopped just short of Mox, before she patted on the dirt beside him.  She flattened it out as best she could before laying her head down in the small depression in the dirt.

"Moxxie?"

"Yeah?"

"You- You'll still be here when I wake up, right?"

"Right." He nodded.  Oh - he knew what to do.

"As a matter of fact, here-"

He slid his arm out of his coat, grunting as he leaned up to pull it out from behind him.  His dad's jacket.  At least it'd be useful for something, besides making him look ridiculous.  He sat it down beside her.  His collar fluttered in the wind.  It was a bit cold without the jacket, but… he would manage. 

"Take this.  You can give it back to me in the morning."

Loona stared at for a moment, before leaning forwards.  She gave it a quick sniff, before pulling it forwards, putting it under her head.  Her knees curled up to her chest, her tail pressed against her knees, coming to rest right beneath her chin.

"Thank you."

Chapter Text

The bell at the front door rang as Mox entered.  He grunted, his darn knee still giving him some trouble.  It had been a few days since he had his encounter with a few unhappy customers.  But, today was gonna be better.

Today, he finally had the day off.  Provided Chaz came through for him.  Which, he better.  Mox had made it explicitly clear that he needed him to cover his routes - his two routes for that day.  Chaz usually only had one, if he was lucky.  His dad didn't trust him as far as he could throw him - couldn't exactly blame him.

For his day off, he had opted to go to a diner.  His dad had given him his measly cut for his collections, so he could afford to treat himself for a day. He had chosen a diner on the opposite side of Imp City - edge of their territory.  A place his dad hadn't gotten his hands on yet.  The place looked good, all things considered.  It was an older style - looked like something straight out of an old play.  Stools with a metal body and red leather seats, neon lights hanging up around the main bar.  Booths weren't too bad, either.  Same red leather seats, with a metal table.

Mox opted to head for the bar.  He limped his way over, sitting down at the very end.  His ribs ached without the support on his back, but he wasn't gonna sit at a booth alone.  He took out his phone, checking his messages.  Nothing, not even from Chaz.  That meant he hadn't flaked on him yet, so-

"Hey!  How are ya, hun?"

Mox nearly jumped as the waitress spoke.  She had seemingly appeared out of thin air in front of him.  He sat his phone down, turning up to her.  Their eyes locked.  The imp was about his height - at least, while he was sitting.  Black, long hair, pulled back in a ponytail.  Her eyelashes were long, and she had a little mole on her cheek.  She was wearing a plain black shirt and skirt - probably her uniform.  What stood out to him most was her accent.

"Hey, uh… yeah, I'm okay." He spoke, trying to ignore how damn cute the woman was.  

"Great ta hear!  I'm Mildred, but ya can call me Millie!"

She held out her hand.  He grabbed it, the woman's fingers immediately clamping down around it.  Millie gave it a hard shake.  Mox definitely heard a few cracks with just how firm her grip was.

"Nice to meet you."

"You too, darlin'!" She smiled, tilting her head slightly.   If she was trying to be adorable, she was most definitely succeeding.  "Now, what can I get'cha?"

Millie pulled out a small notepad, along with a pen.  Oh, right.  He came here to order food, not admire the scenery.

"Oh, uh…" He paused, the gears turning in his head, albeit slowly.  "An omelette with some sausage, some tea with lemon, and an order of bacon."

"Oh, ya came in hungry!  Good, our chef's been dyin' o' boredom back there." She spoke, jotting the order down his order as quickly as he had said it.  "I'll get that put right in for ya."

Hm, he might need to start frequenting this place.  If the food was good, maybe he could even bring Loona.

Millie stepped away from him, walking towards a window behind the counter, to the kitchen, he thought. 

"B!  Ya got an order!" She called out, placing the ticket on the windowsill.

"About time!  Was gettin' tired of counting the freckles on my ass!"

… Then again, maybe he wouldn't bring Loona here.

He was still worried about her.  Being out in the cold every night wouldn't be good for her.  He had picked her up some more clothes - An old sweater of his and a pair of Fizzarolli pajamas he had worn when he was younger.  They went together about as well as vinegar did with milk, but he didn't have much he could get her. 

Though… he had gotten paid.  Maybe he could-

"Here's yer tea, hun."

Millie sat a mug down in front of him, steam rising up from the tea.  A lemon wedge had been sloppily pressed into the lip of the cup.  Part of it had been mangled, sticking into the tea.

"Thanks." He picked the mug up by its handle, taking a small sip from it.

"Sorry about the lemon - ain't got the most precise pair o' hands."

"No worries, still just as good."

Millie smiled, leaning against the counter.  The place was pretty empty - he had decided to come before it got too busy.  Her eyes scanned over the room, smile slowly fading as she looked over the emptied booths.

"Not too busy right now, I take it?"

"Yeah.  Usually busy durin' the mornin', rest of the day, well..." She sighed, turning back towards him.  "Don't think I ever got'cher name, mister…"

"Moxxie."

"Moxxie.  You from 'round here?"

He nodded.  "Raised here, born in Wrath."

"Oh, that's great!  Me 'n the chef're roommates - come in'ta town for work.  We're both from Wrath too!"

"Yeah?"

"Mmhm!" She nodded, leaning towards him.  "Say, you don't know any assassin agencies 'round here that are hirin', do ya?"

There were plenty of hitmen agencies around Imp City, and plenty more in Pride as a whole. But, those that were hiring?  Not too many.  Any bozo with a gun could apply, get hired, killed, and replaced within a week.  It was Hell, everyone had someone they wanted killed, or had someone who wanted them killed.  Not to mention, almost all of them were run by sinners, who weren't keen on giving imps jobs, when a single sinner had the potential to do the work of six imps.

His father was one of the few imps who employed hitmen, and even then, they all had been members of the family for years. It'd be easier to take a chance on a sinner hiring them, than his father hiring someone outside the family.

"Don't think so… sorry."

"Ugh… it's alright," She sighed.  "Just gotta be patient, I guess."

"Yeah, it'll come around." He smiled.  "I'll let you know if I find anything, though."

She smiled back, grinning.  "Thanks, hun."

A loud ding rang through the air, a pair of styrofoam to-go boxes being pushed into the window.  Millie turned, walking over and grabbing the pair.  She reached under the counter, retrieving a pair of plastic forks.

"Here ya go, hun.  Sorry 'bout the plastic stuff - boss got rid of the normal plates as a 'cost-cutting' thing or somethin'."

"It's fine." He nodded, opening the larger plate.  Sure enough, it contained his omelette and sausage.  He checked the smaller one, and sure enough, it was filled with bacon.

"Hope ya enjoy yer meal, hun." She went to turn, before stopping, looking back at him.  "Oh!  Almost forgot,"

Millie pulled out her notepad and pen, jotting down a number - no, her phone number.

"Lemme know if ya hear anythin' about them jobs, hun." She tore her number off the notepad, handing it to him.  "See ya around?"

He couldn't tell if he had managed to talk his way into getting her number, or if he was just incredibly lucky.

Probably the second one.

"I'll do that." He smiled, grinning nearly ear to ear.  "See you, Millie."

Mox grabbed the pair of boxes, standing up from the stool and turning towards the exit.  Suddenly, his limp wasn't so bad.  His ribs weren't hurting too much.

Today had gotten off to a great start

—

"Bacon!"

Loona practically tore the box open once she got her hands on it, sticking her mouth inside it and chomping on the strips of bacon.  Mox chuckled, the hellhound almost eviscerating the box with how hard she chomped down on it.

"Thought you might like some."

"Mmhm!" She mumbled, too busy literally digging her nose into her plate to grab another piece.  "Fhanks!" Loona spoke, spitting bits of bacon across the dirt.  It had, thankfully, avoided getting on him, but the site wasn't exactly pleasant nevertheless.

He smiled, before taking a bite out of his own food.  The omelette had been cooked well, despite its chef's, er… crude comments.  He made sure to check Loona's before handing it over to her, and nothing stood out to him.  Smelled good, didn't look off or discolored, just regular old bacon.  He guessed that was a perk of going to a mob-owned place - they had more of a reason not to fuck with the food, especially when he was ordering.

Bits of bacon clung to Loona's sweater, the off-white, wool thing already stained.  The Fizzarolli pajamas were a bit long for her, but that had been the case for most of his clothes he had managed to get to her.

Loona pulled her head up, finally, once around a quarter of the bacon was left.  She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her sweater. 

"What did you get?"

"An omelette, like last time."

She stood, still holding onto her plate as she walked over to him.  A claw poked into a strip of bacon, bringing it up to her mouth.

"What's an omelette?" She asked, before biting into the bacon. Loona looked over it - only about half of it was left.  Mox had been pretty hungry, too.

"It's made of eggs."

"Ew."

"Not a fan?"

She shook her head, before turning her nose up from his plate. "Eggs are gross."

"I dunno, they're pretty tasty." He spoke, sliding another piece of it into his mouth.  She gagged - not actually, he hoped - when she saw him chew on it.

"You're weird." She turned, biting another piece of bacon off her plate.

He snickered, smiling while he took another bite from the omelette, watching as she walked over to the opposite side of the alley.  Loona had made a little "fort" for herself, as she called it, out of the cardboard boxes he had brought her.  In reality, it was just a couple of the broken-down boxes leaning against each other and closing off the corner of the alley.  

"Adding more to your fort?"

"Maybe.  The box is too small for a wall, but maybe for a door." She dug her claws into its side, tearing it open, before crushing the styrofoam.  Squeezed the box with both palms, crushing it until the box was nearly flat, before setting it on the ground beside her fort. 

Moxxie took another quick bite out of his omelette, before standing.  He sat the tray down on the ground, heading over to Loona.  Her fort shielded her "bed" from the wind.  It was really just a few pillows Mox had managed to sneak out of his own room, along with an extra blanket he had laying around. 

"Your bed working out okay?  I can get you another pillow if you need it."

"No, it's good." She spoke, pushing the remnants of the box against the edge of her fort, against the wall.  “The blanket is comfortable.”

“Good.  It was one my mom-” He paused, stopping.  Mox cleared his throat before speaking again.  “My mother made for me.” He tried his best to keep his voice neutral, but he could tell some of his disdain made it through.  Loona’s ears hiked up, turning to

wards him.

“You okay?”

He smiled.  No way he was gonna add to her worries with his problems.  She already had it rough, his issues were his to deal with.  Not hers.

“Yeah, I’m okay.  Got any plans for your fort when I bring another box?”

“I might try to add a roof.  I don’t wanna get wet when-”

His phone buzzed against his hip as Loona continued, spouting off her design ideas and concepts to make the greatest fort imaginable.  He pulled it out of his pocket.  Ugh, Chaz.

“And then I’m gonna-” “Hold on just one second, okay?  I gotta take this.”

She looked a little deflated, having to stop in the middle of her discussion.  Her shoulders visibly dropped, turning back towards her fort to try and adjust the position of the boxes.  He’d need to make it up to her once he dealt with whatever Chaz wanted.  He tapped on his phone, holding it up to his ear.

“This better be good, I told you -”

“Told ‘im what?”

A cold chill ran down his spine.  His father’s voice.

“S- Sir, I’m sorry.  I thought -”

“You been thinkin’ a lot o’ things lately, haven’t ya Moxxie.  Lookin’ like you got some sticky fingers, along with a few other things.”

No.  No, he can’t have noticed.  He - He had been careful - tried not to avoid taking when someone was around.

“Sir… I don’t know what you’re-”

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me, son.  You think I haven’t noticed you takin’ things from the compound?  Don’t care if it’s fuckin’ cash, pillows, fuckin’ soup cans - you come to me before it comes outta this house.”

Shit.  This was really happening.

“Now, you got five minutes to get back here and explain yerself.  Get here now, or we’ll come and get you.” 

“Dad - wait-”

The phone beeped as the call ended.  He could feel his vision blurring.  Sound around him started to get fuzzy.

He stole from his dad.  And he had found out.

He - He knew what happened.  Saw what his father did to people who crossed him.  He -

“... Moxxie?”

He knew what happened.  He had done it personally.  It had just been cans and blankets he already had - forty, fifty dollars at the most.  Anything he took wouldn’t be missed, he thought.  Air was getting harder to come by.  His chest was tightening.  He-

“Moxxie?”

He had to go back, didn’t he?  His dad wasn’t gonna let it go.  He had connections all over Imp City, and even stretching outward.  He’d never get out of his grasp by running.  Imp City was his father’s town.  He ran this place.  If he wanted him killed - if he wanted anyone killed, it’d happen.  He-

“Moxxie!”

Mox felt a hand grab his, the claws gently pressing against his skin.  Not tearing into it or biting, but… bringing him back.  He turned downward, a gray blur standing beside him.  

Loona.  Holding his hand.

“Are you okay?” She asked, her voice more forceful than the last time she had asked him.  “You’re crying.”

He brought his free hand up, wiping his cheek. It came back wet with warm tears.  Fear addled his mind, squeezing his chest, but…

“I - I’m okay.  I gotta -” He took a deep breath, shuddering quietly.  Mox tried to pull away, but her claws sank into him.

He couldn’t leave.  This was something he had no choice but to face.  If he left, they’d comb every bit of Imp City til they found him.  The mob wasn’t something you could just leave, not after what he had done.  If they looked hard enough, they’d find her.  Find where everything he had stolen had gone to.  He couldn’t allow them to get to her.

“You’re leaving?” She asked, looking up to him.  “But… you said you’d-”

“I just -” He took another breath.  “I- I’ll be right back, okay Loona?  Just - just stay here.”

Mox gently grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away as he turned.

“Moxxie!”

He didn’t have time to say anything else, breaking into a sprint as soon as he had broken her grip.  His leg burned as he ran, but he had to.  He knew his dad would keep his word, come to him if he didn’t come to them.

The clock was ticking, and time was running out for him.

Chapter Text

"So… got anythin' to say, the pair of ya?"

Moxxie and Chaz stood side-by-side.  His heart was racing out of his chest.  Did he know where he had gone with it?  He - He thought he had been safe, that no one noticed.  But, someone did.

"No?  Let's start with you then," He turned towards Chaz, stepping closer to him.  The demon looked like he was sick - his face had gone gray, sweat rolling down his temples.  His nails were dug into his sides, turning down to face him.

"Skimmin' from your collections, and forcin' others to pay before it's due.  Not to mention, ya been takin' longer 'n longer on yer routes."

"S-Sir, I was just - you see - me and Mox, we had-"

A few incoherent mutterings slipped between his lips.  The demon was nearly petrified, skin so gray he almost literally looked like a statue.  He might have passed for one, if he wasn't shaking so much.  His father sighed, before stepping to the left.  In front of Moxxie.

"And you.  I dunno what all you been takin', but I know you been skimmin' food 'n shit." He took a step back.  "Now, if one of ya doesn't explain whatever the fuck is goin' on right now , I'm gonna assume you two're stealin' from us."

"You see…" Chaz started, his hand going to the back of his neck.  "We were… uh…"

Dammit, Chaz.

His mind raced, trying to think of something that would explain his strange behavior.  He couldn't let himself get caught like this- Loona still needed him.  There had to be something…

"Well?  I'm not waitin' all day."

"You - you see, Mox and I…" Chaz took a step forwards.  "We were planning on robbing a bank.  I-I meant to talk to you about it, but-"

Oh, no fucking way.  He had told him no, at least a dozen times.  And now he was gonna rope him in.  He had to stop him!

"Sir-"

"Shuddup," He barked at Moxxie, before turning up to Chaz.  "How much ya think you two can get?"

"O-Oh, at least forty or fifty grand!  Maybe more!  I- I was skimming so I could get us a decent car to get away with." 

"And you?"

His father turned towards him.  Moxxie wanted to say no - to tell him he didn't want to go along with it.  The bank was decently guarded, and had a pretty good security system.  That he didn't want to rob some people out of whatever cash they had left.  He was tired of hurting people.  It was all he ever did.  Hurt people.

But… Chaz had dug a hole for them both.  Unless he wanted to be buried in it, he needed to go along with Chaz.

"I was… getting supplies together for a safehouse." He sighed, turning his eyes downward.

"Heh… alright." His father grinned, his golden tooth glittering in the light.  "'Bout time you two started carryin' your weight.  I'll let the skimmin' slide.  So long as you two give the family its fair share, I'll forget about this little bump in the road." 

He stepped forwards, placing a hand on each other's shoulders - Mox's left, Chaz's right.  

"But, just so we're clear," 

His fingers dug into their jackets.  Mox felt him yank him closer.  His horn collided with Chaz's cheek, while the pair of them were brought closer.

"You ever pull shit like that again, and try to hide it from me, I won't be so forgetful next time."

"Y- Yes sir." Moxxie spoke.  Chaz nodded.

"Good.  Now, go.  You two got work to do."

Mox turned away, stepping away from his father.  He pushed the door open to his study, stepping out into the main hall.  Mox needed to be out of this house for the night.

"Hey, Moxxie,"

Chaz.  Nope.  Not dealing with that.

"C'mon, I told you - that score is easy.  In and out.  Don't be this way."

"Don't care."

He had given up his night, and time with Loona, for this?  The way he left had probably scared her too.  Dammit.  Why did Chaz have to skim?  Why did he have to get caught tonight?

Part of him wanted to scream, the other part wanted to cry.  His fingers dug into his palms, trying to focus on keeping himself calm and aware of his surroundings.  He could lose it once he got out - not a minute sooner.

"Moxxie-Poxx-" 

" Don't call me that."

He turned the corner, heading for the door.  Mox pushed it open, stepping out into the hot, humid air.  Suffocatingly humid.  He heard Chaz speed up as he got out of the doorway.  His fingers dug into Mox's shoulder, pushing him to the side as the door closed behind them.  He pushed him against the wall.

“Chaz-”

His boyfriend's lips pressed up against his.  Mox's hands went up to his chest, trying to push him away.  He was in no mood for his advances.  Hell, he was almost done with him.  Chaz seemed to get the hint, pulling away.

“Oh, come on, loosen up for once, Mox.”

“Chaz!  Seriously, what is with you?!”

“What's with me ?” He took a step back.  “I'm the one tryin’ to get us some good work.  When's the last time you got a score for us, eh?  That fuckin’ gas station where the cashier nearly blew my head off?”

Oh, of course he had to bring it up.  One bad job in the three he had set up for them. He rolled his eyes, heading down the steps.

“You knew what you were doing.  Seriously, skimming from my father?  You know he counts every dollar.”

“Yeah, you're one to talk about skimmin’.” He followed him down the steps.  “Seriously, what were you even doing with that stuff?  Givin’ it to the homeless?”

“Ugh, look, just-” He huffed.  Talking to Chaz after he'd dragged him into the heist was exhausting.  “Let me know when it's time.  I'll get us an apartment outside the city.” 

Moxxie turned, heading back towards the street.

“Fine.  Don't expect any dick till then either, Mox-Pox.  No Cum-City for you till ya learn to have some fun!”

Yeah, like he really wanted to fuck Chaz anymore.  Mox had learned his lesson about that.  Chaz slept around.  It hurt at first, but… it was Hell.  Everyone got hurt.  He was numb to it, at this point.  Numb to everything with the mob.  He hated working for it, but he could only hate so much.

He had to do good somewhere when he could.  It made him feel… better.  Like he wasn't an awful person.  Helping out Loona with-

“Oh, crumbs!”

Loona, he had left her!  He had to hurry back!

—

Mox turned the corner into the alleyway, huffing quietly as he stepped back into the center.

“Loona?” He called out between breaths.  “Sorry… I…”

Loona’s head poked up from behind the wall of her fort.  She had his blanket pulled over her head.  Her eyes looked… red.

“You're back!” Her voice was strained, a little hoarse.  She hadn't been crying, had she?

“Yeah… sorry, didn't mean to run like that.”  Mox took a few more steps towards her.  “Are you okay?”

“Oh,” She pulled the covers off her head.  Her hair had been frazzled a bit by the cloth, some parts flattened out while the others stood on end.  “Yeah, I'm good.  Was… trying to take a nap.”

Oh, she wasn't a good liar.  But… he didn't want to bring it up.  He wouldn't know what to do if she said “no,” anyways.  

“Alright… sorry, just-”

“Work?”

“Yeah.”

“Does that mean you're leaving again?” Her head lowered slightly, ears flat.

“No, no.  I'm here for the rest of the night.”

“Good!” She smiled, head raising back up.  “I needed your help with something.”

“Oh, okay,” He spoke.  She hadn't really asked him for help before, not with something specific anyways.  “What did you need help with?”

“I wanted to make a roof, remember?” She picked up her blanket, the cloth spilling out around her arms.  Loona stepped out over the wall.  The poor girl nearly tripped over the blanket as she did, the end of it dragging against the dirt.   “There was something I remember seeing once.”

Loona tossed the blanket over the wall, the end of it landing against the wall, slowly dragging down it.

“Oh, you wanna use the blanket?”

“Yeah.  The other kids at the pound-” She paused, before shaking her head.  “At my old place, they did it.”

“Alright…”

Moxxie really wasn't familiar with “forts.”  Not the kind Loona liked, anyways.  His dad never really let him do that sort of thing.  One time, he had taken the cushions off the couches in the living room, and stacked them up like a “house.”  One pillow on the bottom, and two leaning against each other on top of that. He had pushed himself into it when his dad found him, and…

Well, he didn't get to sit on the couch anymore.  He didn't do much sitting for a few days after that.  That was before his dad took him to the lake, if he remembered right.

The less said about that day, the better.  Besides, if he didn't jump in, Loona looked like she would explode if he didn't start moving.

“Okay, let's work on that roof.”

“Yes!” She shouted, her tail wagging as she wedged part of the blanket between two of the walls.  He knelt down beside her, helping her with one end, before they moved on to the other.

It was a momentary distraction, but a much needed one.  Soon, they'd be hitting a bank.  

He needed to make sure she'd be okay if he left her for a few days.  It was gonna suck not checking in on her, but he didn't have much of a choice.  As long as she was okay, he'd be okay.

Chapter Text

“Whoa…”

Loona entered the diner in front of Moxxie.  An orange glow had been cast over the inside, filling out the empty seating booths of the diner.  It had been a long day of prep work for Moxxie - most of which he had to do himself, thanks to Chaz - but he had finished up.  Small apartment in their territory, mob-owned.  Place was inconspicuous, and anyone who came looking for their cash would leave in a body bag.  The owners had chewed him out for asking for a pair of rooms on short notice, but… Well, they didn't have much of a choice.

Hell, he could've said that about most of the prep work he did.  He intimidated a grocer into giving him a few cans of surplus stock, and the guy who ran the laundromat to swipe them some sheets to sleep on.

He felt dirty.  Awful, but he did it anyway.  He didn't have much of a choice, just like them.  Chaz had put him in a hole.  If he managed to get himself out of it… well, his dad might respect him.  Trust him more.  He didn't want to do it still, but if he had to, he wanted it to count for something.  To be more than just robbing someone for cash.

He was an irredeemable cretin, but if he was gonna be dirty, he wanted to do it on his terms.

Maybe if he did well enough, he could get enough cash to get his own place.  If Loona wanted to, she could join him.  It'd be better than her sleeping out in the cold every night.

Speaking of her… she ran over to a booth, sliding across a seat.  Mox sat next to her.  Better to focus on now.  He had time to worry about tomorrow later.

“This place is a lot more clean than the other one.”

“Yeah, very.” He sat beside her.  The leather wasn't sticky, and the table looked like it was made sometime in the last century, which was certainly an improvement from their last diner visit.  

“Thank you.” 

Loona smiled.  She had been doing that more often, which was good to see.  It had been a few days since Chaz had forced him into the bank job.  He'd spent most of his time outside prep work and planning with her.  Mox knew he wouldn't be able to swipe anymore food from the mansion anymore, nor any clothing or pillows for her.  He had managed to get her a warm meal the past two nights, but…

Well, things were tight.  He had skipped out on his meal last night to make sure she got fed.  It was worth it to make sure she was fed and happy.  She seemed like she had been through enough.  He wanted her to have something good.

Well… he needed to.  He hadn't known how to tell her he was gonna be gone for a bit.  Maybe he could bring her to the apartment before he left?  It'd be someplace warm, and relatively safe.

“Howdy!”

Moxxie turned up towards the voice, while Loona lowered herself.  Millie was working today, that was good.  He'd stopped by earlier the prior night to pick up Loona's meal.  

“Hey, Millie.”

She smiled, holding her notepad.

“Hi, Moxxie.  Glad ta see ya again.” Her attention turned towards Loona. She leaned downwards, towards her.  “Aw, howdy there!  What's yer name?”

Loona… well, she didn't respond, her legs pulling up from under the table, digging into the leather.  Her tail was low, shoulder pressed against Moxxie's side.  He… probably should've expected that.  It took her a few days to even speak to him openly. 

“She's, uh… Loona.”

Millie turned back towards Moxxie.  “Shy, I guess?”

She pressed her head against his arm, trying to hide herself as best she could.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“Alright, no problem at all, hun!” She smiled.  “Usual for y'all two, then?  Omelette and bacon?”

“Just the bacon this time.  With orange juice.”

He didn't have enough for the both of them.  Mox would manage, he wanted to make sure Loona got fed.

“Alright, I'll get that in for ya!” She smiled, turning back towards the main counter as she walked away.  Loona slowly pulled back.

“You didn't say there'd be people here…”

“Well, this place is a lot nicer than the other one.  We can have someone else take the order for us.”

“I guess…”

Mox watched as Millie pushed the ticket into the window, before she headed behind the counter.  She ducked under it, before standing back up, a judge of orange juice and a pair of cups in her arms, along with a piece of paper and some crayons.  Aw, that was thoughtful of her.  She rounded the counter, before walking back over to them.  Loona quickly shifted behind Moxxie.

“Here ya go!” She spoke, setting the orange juice and cups down.  “And here hun, think ya might enjoy this.”

Millie sat down the piece of paper, with the small box of crayons sitting beside it.  No design on the paper, which he supposed was good.  Better for her to have some freedom in what she drew.  Loona shot a glance towards the paper, then to Millie, before cautiously poking her head out.

“I’ll bring out y’all’s food when it’s ready.  Y’all need anything else, just holler.” She smiled, turning.  Loona slowly leaned towards the table as Millie walked away.  Carefully, she picked up the box of crayons, giving it a shake.

“Need me to open them for you?”

“No, I got it.” Loona spoke.  She slid a claw underneath the cardboard flap holding the box shut, slicing it open.  The crayons spilled out, tapping against the table.  Loona breathed a quiet sigh, before picking one up. They had a few bite marks on them, and a couple of them were cracked, but it was still a kind gesture.

Loona grabbed onto the paper, pressing it down with her forearm while she went to work coloring with the red crayon.  He'd need to thank Millie after they finished.  Mox hadn't really had a chance to get her any toys, stuff to draw with, or otherwise.  

“What're you drawing?”

“Dunno yet.”

“Alright…” He grabbed the jug, taking off the cap and pushing a cup in front of her.  Mox filled it for her.  “Do you like drawing?”

“Yeah.” She spoke, focused on scribbling in an outline she had created.  Well, “outline” may have been generous- it was a stick figure with a head, but still.  

“Would you want me to bring you some crayons and paper next time?”

Loona stared intently down at the paper, keeping her focus downward as she drew.  A slow, half-hearted nod was the only answer he got.

Well, it did seem like she liked it, at least.  Millie soon came back, a plate of bacon in her hand.  Loona didn't seem to notice, picking up a gray crayon and beginning to draw beside the red figure.  Millie smirked, before motioning Moxxie to follow her.  

“Hey, I'll be back in a minute, okay?  You can go ahead and eat, if you want.”

Loona's head snapped up.  “Huh-”

Her eyes locked onto the plate.  The hellhound's hands practically sprung across the counter, grabbing the plate and biting into the pile of bacon.  Moxxie chuckled, before sliding out of the booth.  He and Millie headed back towards the counter.

“Ya never mentioned ya had a daughter.” Millie smiled.  Oh…

Well, it did look like that, didn't it?  He did take care of her, as best as he could.  Kept her fed and clothed, and tried to support her wherever he could.  She didn't have anyone else to, so it fell to him… not that he wouldn't do it if circumstances were different, but still.

But, he wasn't her father.  He wouldn't be a good one.  Moxxie had blood on his hands.  The only reason he was somebody was because of his dad.  Not a good protector, only slightly good with guns when he stopped shaking, and cowardly.  He couldn't even put a roof over her head.  Further still, he had put her in harm's way by giving her stuff he'd swiped from his dad.  He was dumb, clueless.

“I, er… well, she isn't.” Mox admitted, leaning against the counter.  He kept his back to Loona.  “I only found her a week ago.  She was alone, no one to take care of her.  I couldn't just… leave her.”

Millie nodded, glancing back over to the hellhound, who was devouring the freshly cooked plate of meat.

“I see… well, yer doin’ good, whatever y'all two are.” She smiled.  Right.  He was doing good by putting her in danger.  Hell, just being around him was probably bad for her.  

He… didn't want to think about that.  It made him worry.  That one night, his father, or one of his enemies, would discover her, and what he had given her.  He knew the mob was harsh on thieves.  If she got hurt because of him…

“Mox?” 

His eyes snapped back up to Millie's.

“Sorry - thinking.”

“Oh, so that's what you were doin’.” She giggled.  “You were starin’ for a bit there, hun.  And not at my face, if ya catch my drift.”

Wait - what - he hadn't-

“I-I - Did?” His voice was high, his face felt warm.  He hadn't… she looked good, yeah.  Millie was cute, and from what he had seen, she was a lot more than just that.  But- But he hadn't been-

A snort escaped the imp, giggling quietly.  “I'm just messin’ with ya, take it easy.” She punched him in the arm.  He couldn't tell if he was weak, or if she was just really strong, but he swore he felt his shoulder pop from it.

“Yeah - hah,” He laughed, nervously.  “I'm gonna - She's probably done, so uh… yeah.” He slinked back, while Millie leaned against the counter, a wide, smug grin on her face.  She knew what she was doing, and damn, had he fell for it.

He slowly slid back into the booth.  Loona had almost finished her plate, only a few pieces remaining.  She had gone through half the jug of orange juice, and the piece of paper was gone, along with the crayons. 

“Enjoy your food?”

“Mmhm,” She mumbled, mouth full of bacon.  “Fhanksh.”

“Of course,” He smiled.  “Were you ready to head out?”

She turned back up towards him, then back towards the plate.  Loona grabbed the last two bits of bacon, scarfing them down before wiping her hands off on her sweater.  “Mmhm.” She mumbled.  He'd need to get her a new shirt soon, the sweater was starting to get dirty.

Moxxie scooted out of the booth.  He pushed his hand into his pockets, pulling a few bills out and placing it on the table.

“What did you draw?” He asked, holding his hand out for Loona.  She stared at, tentatively grabbing onto it as she stepped out of the booth. 

“Nothing.” 

Huh… she didn't want to share?

That was okay.  Just… odd.

“Alright… did you want to do anything else before we headed back?”

The sun was setting.  There wasn't much else they could do, but… he still had time.

“Like what?”

“I think there's a park nearby.  Sure they have a playground.”

He turned, the pair of them heading towards the door.  Loona looked up to him, head tilted.  Her brow was furled.

“A… playground?”

“You know what that is, right?”

She nodded, before turning back towards the door.  “Yeah.  If you want to.”

The pair of them headed out, the door squeaking as it opened.  The bell dinged, Millie waving to the pair as they went out on the street.

“No, if you want to, Loona.”

He knelt down in front of her, beside the door.  Moxxie knew he wouldn't be seeing her for a few days… he wanted to make sure it was special.  He didn't want her to think she was leaving him.  She stared back at him, eyes widening.

“I… want to.”

He smiled.  “Then, let's get going.”

—

Loona walked beside him, her hair frazzled and messy.  The poor hellhound was exhausted, little yawns escaping her every few moments.  Mox was glad - it seemed like she had fun… even if she stayed away from other kids.

She had spent most of her time on the swings.  When she wasn't doing that, she was on the monkey bars, swinging and climbing as fast as she could.  The girl looked like she was having a blast…

And now, well, she was exhausted.  They still had a few blocks to go.  The sun had set by the time they had left the park, and the moon was overhead.  He knew she was tired…

“Hey, you wanna do something fun?”

It took her a moment to acknowledge him.  She turned up towards him.

“Huh…?” Loona yawned, using her free hand to cover her mouth.  She had the other holding tightly onto Mox's fingers.  He grinned, kneeling down.

“Let me carry you.  My mom used to do this for me.”

“Carry… me?”

He shifted slightly, turned away from her.  “Mmhm, c'mon.  Arms over my shoulders, legs under my arms.”

Loona blinked slowly, another quiet yawn escaping her.  She let go of his hand, stepping behind in front of him.  Her arms went over his shoulders, pressing against his neck.  She climbed up onto his knee.

“You ready?”

“Yeah…”

Okay… he remembered how this went, right?

Slowly, he stood, pulling one leg up under his arm.  He hooked it around her leg, before doing the same with the other.  There.  That was right, right?

“You good?  Comfortable?”

“Mmhmm…” She grumbled, pressing her head against his shoulder.  Moxxie slowly started walking, trying to keep her still while he moved.  

“Moxxie…?” She yawned, shifting slightly.  Her chin pressed into his shoulder, yawning quietly.

“Yeah, Loona?”

“Thank you…” She mumbled.  “I haven't been to a park in forever.”

“Of course, anytime.” He smiled.  It was nice seeing her happy.  Even if it didn't show… he knew it was rare for her.  

“I haven't been since… the last family who adopted me.”

Oh…

“You… have another family?”

It made him worry, a bit.  He had thought to ask, and she had said no one was looking for her… but, if she had another - if she had a family-

“Yeah… I had one.  They were gonna take me back… to the pound.” She yawned quietly, shifting slightly.  Her chest pressed against his, her cheek resting against her shoulder.  “They put me in the capture van… and forgot to lock the door… I ran away.”

They were gonna take her back to the pound?  Why?  She wasn't bad, or mean - not that it would matter if she was.  Loona was a child , for Satan's sake.  Who brings a kid back to the adoption center?  Especially one like her.  The center hadn't even bothered looking for her.  She was a child, and they were prepared to-

It didn't matter.  If he thought about it anymore, he was gonna get angry.  What mattered was, he was there for her now.

“Well… you don't need to worry about that with me.” He smiled.  “You're stuck with me for now, Loona.”

“Mmhm… I know…” She yawned.  “You're… the only good one…” Another yawn escaped her.  “The only one… who I didn't… mess up with…”

Another quiet yawn escapes her.  Her nose pressed in beneath his jaw.

“The only… good one…”

The… good one?  Good what?  And what did she “mess up”?  He doubted she could do anything that'd make him leave her.  Moxxie knew better than to just abandon her.  He wasn't his mother.

“The only good what?”

Loona grumbled quietly.  Soft breaths escaped her, tail laying flat against his legs.  The poor girl was exhausted.  That question would need to wait.  She needed her rest.  Moxxie knew it didn't come easily for her.  He looked ahead.  The alley was in sight. 

He turned as he neared the alleyway, then again towards her fort.  Moxxie carefully pulled her arms off his shoulders.  They fell loosely to her sides.  Yeah, she was out.

He shifted his hands up, one on her back, the other on her head.  Slowly, he lowered her down onto her bed.  He made a few adjustments to the pillows, fluffing some and shifting others.  Had to make sure she was comfortable. 

He carefully sat Loona down.  Her tail rested between her legs, her cheek pressed against a pillow.  Her arms had come to rest against the dirt… he couldn't get her entire form on the bed, but he didn't want to risk waking her trying to move her.  

Moxxie grabbed her blanket.  He dragged the black fabric up across her chest, resting it right beneath her chin.  Loona mumbled, shifting onto her side.  She grabbed the blanket, pulling it close.

Okay… she was in bed.  Now he could get some rest too.  He wasn't leaving her - Loona got scared sleeping alone.  Moxxie shifted against the wall of her fort, his back pressing into the brick wall.  He sighed quietly.  Today was good.  One of the first good days in a long time.  He needed it.  They both did.

He slid his hand into his pocket.  A message was on the lock screen.  He had gotten it this morning.  It was part of the reason why he wanted to treat Loona today.

“B ready, we're hitting the bank tmrw nite.”

He was leaving tomorrow night.  For at least a few days.  He still needed to tell her, but… he didn't know how.  She deserved to know, but he knew she had been through things like it before.  Experienced loss like no kid should have.  What if she thought she was leaving him?  That he had “gotten tired” of her?  Or that he was calling the pound.  He had to think about this.  The best way to tell her.  But, he knew one thing.

He had to tell her in the morning.

Chapter Text

Moxxie watched as Loona pressed the wall of her fort against the brick wall. It had collapsed while they went for a bite to eat, mostly thanks to the blanket pulling it down. She had pulled it off, the fabric sitting next to the wall. Another warm meal for the hellhound. The last one he'd have with her for the next few days.

He… hadn't told her yet. How was he supposed to? Should he just… come out and say it? He always knew being honest helped when it came to bad news, but… Well, she was a kid. His father wouldn't have left him alone for days.

… Okay, maybe he would have.

And, his mother… Well, she wasn’t there.

Ugh. Why did this have to be so complicated? He didn't just wanna leave. Loona-

“... Are you okay?”

His eyes snapped up. Loona was staring at him. The fort had been reassembled- to the best of her ability, of course. Though, it seemed like she had been staring for a while. She had turned towards him, looking up at him. 

“Y - Yeah, of course, why wouldn't I be?”

Liar. He was an awful one too. Loona rolled her eyes.

“Don't lie.”

She was way too smart. Darn it.

Well… better to get it done.

“I…” He sighed, kneeling down. Mox placed a hand on her shoulder. “Look… I promise it's not gonna be bad.”

Her ears flattened, tail lowering. She lowered her head.

“... you're leaving, aren't you?” 

Hell, her voice… monotone. Emotionless. Like she had been expecting this. He had to make this better.

“O-Only for a day, I promise.” His free hand moved up, trying to go to her other shoulder. She flinched back.

“You… you said you'd stay.”

Sadness seeped into her words. She was starting to blink more. Eyes getting wet.

“I am, I promise Loona.” He lowered his head, trying to meet her gaze. She turned away. A low, angry growl escaped her, her hands clenching 

“Loona-”

“It always happens!” She snapped, hairs sticking on end. “You're tired of me! Is that it?!”

“I'm not tired of you, Loona, please. I just need to-”

“You're leaving me! I shouldn't have thought it'd be any different,” She stared up at him. Her eyes spewed anger and sadness, brow furled. She ground her teeth together. “Go ahead, leave! I didn't need you anyway!” The hellhound turned, beginning to walk away. “I survived before, I can survive now!”

She was angry, safe to say. Rightfully so. He had never seen her angry before.

“Loona,” 

He reached in front of her, trying to grab her shoulder. Moxxie didn't even see it happen. He just felt the pain after.

Loona sunk her teeth into his hand, right beside his thumb. She snarled, snorts and angry huffs escaping her. Black blood seeped out around her teeth, staining her lips. She growled, grunting as she clamped down. Mox was…

He didn't know what he was. Hurt, upset, or sad would've been good descriptors. He stared down at her, eyes wide. She… bit him. And it hurt. It really, really hurt. For more than just the pain in his hand.

Their eyes locked, Loona's mouth snapping wide. She pulled back, teeth dragging against his thumb as she let go.

“I…” She spoke, her form shaking. Tears were forming in her eyes. Slowly, she stumbled back. “I- I didn't mean- I wasn't-”

Loona looked up at him, then back down to his hand. Moxxie squeezed his wrist, trying to stem the flow of blood. It didn't hurt nearly as bad as the thought that he had pushed her to this. To bite him.

“Loona, it's okay. It's-”

As he took a step towards her, she turned, going onto her hands and sprinting down the alley.

“Loona!”

He ran after her, blood still leaking from his hand. She turned the corner, running down the street. Mox followed behind her, as best he could, but she was fast, and his head was feeling lighter with each step. He was losing blood, and running wasn't helping.

“Loona! Wait!” He called out for her. The hellhound didn't stop - she rounded another corner, scrambling away from him. He huffed, feeling more and more sluggish with each passing moment. 

They rounded the corner again, heading back towards her alley. She turned the corner, heading back in - she was trying to throw him off, he thought. Moxxie stumbled, landing on his knees in front of the alley. He huffed quietly, turning towards the alley. Loona was nowhere in sight.

“Ugh… damn it…”

He had lost her. She was fast - too fast for him to catch with blood oozing out of him faster than he could stop it. The bite looked worse than it was, but… he needed to take care of it.

His hand really hurt. Only half as much as his heart was. He reached into his jacket with his good hand, grabbing onto his shirt. Mox pulled it up to his mouth, latching his teeth into the seam while he pulled. He ripped off a long, thin piece of the cloth. Chaz had been in enough fights that he knew the process. Plus, being in the mob, it's good to have some basic first aid knowledge.

Moxxie slid the cloth over the bite, wrapping it around his palm. He had enough to wrap a few times, but the blood still seeped through. The pressure would, hopefully, stop the bleeding. Provided he could get a tight knot with just one hand. He leaned down, biting down on one end while he pulled on the other. The knot was… a little loose, but it would have to work.

Okay… he grunted as he moved onto his feet. He needed to find her. Make this better. But, he didn't know where to start.

He could wait for her in the alley… but, just standing there felt like wasting time. Time he could be using searching. The diners were places she knew, either of those could've been where she went. There was also the park, but with how sheepish she had been there yesterday, he wasn't sure if she'd go through the stress of dealing with it.

But, he had put her through enough stress… maybe she'd think that would be better than being around him. 

“Okay… okay.” He spoke, thinking aloud. It always helped him to talk through his thoughts. Gave him a single thread to focus on in the chaotic tapestry his head could be sometimes.

“Diners are closest… should check there first before I head to the park.” He shifted, walking down the street. The diner they first ate at was there. It was also the closest one Loona had been to with him.

“Millie's next, then the park, and back here.”

—

“The fuck ya mean, you can't come?”

“I can't yet, Chaz.”

This was bad. Millie hadn't seen Loona. He hadn't spotted her at either diner, and the park was empty by the time he got there. The moon was well overhead. He was supposed to be at Chaz's place half an hour ago, but… he couldn't just leave like that. She could be hurt, or trapped, or worse, and he wouldn't know for days. 

“Ugh, I - the fuck is your problem, Moxxie? Seriously, the past few weeks, you've been different.”

“Yeah, well… things change.” Moxxie spoke, crossing the street. The alley was in sight. Please, let Loona be there.

“So, what the fuck am I supposed to do? Sit here with my thumb up my ass?”

“No, just-” He huffed, an annoyed, frustrated breath. “Give me half an hour, max. I just need to do something first.”

“You've had the whole fucking day!”

“Yeah, well, you owe me one. I'm not even calling it off. Just pushing back our time frame. We have the whole night- half an hour isn't going to ruin us.”

“Ugh, fine.” Chaz spoke. Mox could hear his eyes rolling. “But if you aren't here by then, I'm goin’. Not waiting a second longer.”

“Thank you. I'll be there soon.”

Moxxie hung up the phone, sliding it into his pocket. He turned into the alleyway, back towards their spot.

“Loona?” He called out, eyes scanning over the alley. Please, let her be there. She had to be. He didn't know where else she could -

Her fort, the blanket was over the top of it. She had left it sitting on the ground. As he got closer, he could hear sniveling… crying. Quiet whines.

“... Loona?”  

The sniveling stopped, only for a moment.

“G-Go away…” Her voice was hoarse, raspy.

He knelt down in front of the fort. The “door” was shut, the blanket keeping her covered.

“I'm not leaving, Loona. We should talk.”

“I don't want to… j- juh- just go…” Loona's voice shook, sobs and shuddering breaths between each word. “I-I bit y-you. You were al-already leaving, a-and now you hate me.”

“Loona… I don't. I know you didn't mean-”

“It - It still hap-happened. I-I hur-hurt you,” Her voice shook, sobs escaping her with each word. “I-I des-deserve to be-be alone.”

“No you don't, Loona, please, let's just talk.”

“L-Luh-Leave…”

He glanced down to his hand. The bite had stopped bleeding hours ago. Soreness had set in. He…

He had to make this right.

“Can I… tell you something?”

She didn't say anything, more quiet whines escaping her. Mox took a deep breath.

“My mom left me when I was nine, and my dad isn't… he's not… the best, when it comes to talking.”

Moxxie shifted, sitting down in front of the door.

“She was just… gone, one day. No goodbye. No words. No note. Nothing. Just… gone. Everything of hers. Gone. Like she had just disappeared.”

Her breathing eased slightly. There were still hitched breaths, and sobs occasionally escaped her, but… she seemed to be listening, at least.

“For years after that, I was… sad. Angry. Upset. All sorts of feelings. I missed her, and I hated her for leaving. I cried myself to sleep at night, hoping she'd be there in the morning. I thought it was my fault at times. That - if I had been a better son, she wouldn't have left.” He took a low, quiet breath. Mox could feel a lump forming in his throat. “I threw myself into something I… really didn't care about. It hurt to do, but it didn't give me time to think. It was something to distract me. It hurt to think about her, and I thought about her all the time.”

He pinched the bridge of nose. His chest hurt just talking about her. But, it was working, he hoped.

“I hoped-” His voice cracked, his eyes stinging. “I hoped I'd be able to forget about her if I kept at it for long enough. But, I never did. It would've never worked. You can't really forget about people who you care about, no matter what they did.”

Moxxie scooted forwards. “And, Loona… I promise, I care about you. I would never do something like that to you. I can't-”

He felt the lump in his throat only growing bigger. Moxxie swallowed. The poor hellhound had experienced what he had, and in a far worse manner. They both had parents who abandoned them.

“I can't know what it feels like for you, and that's okay. What I do know, is that I am not going to forget you, or stop caring about you, no matter what happens. So, even if I do need to leave, I am going to be coming back.”

A shuddering breath escaped from her fort. Loona's head poked up from over the wall. She pulled the covers off. Her eyes were bloodshot, fur stained with tears.

“Y… you promise?” She spoke, her voice a whisper. “If… if you're lying, I'll n-never forgive you.”

“I promise Loona.” He smiled. “I'm not going to forget about you. I'm gonna come back.”

Quiet, shuddering breaths escaped her. She pushed the door to her fort open. Her eyes traced across him, down to his hand. The cloth was a crimson shade of red. She stepped forwards, wrapping his arms around him.

“I… I'm sorry about y-your hand.” Loona spoke, breaths hitched and uneven. “I-I didn't me-mean to. It- It just happened.”

“I know, it's okay.” He spoke, voice hushed. Mox gently rubbed her back, feeling her shivering against him. He hoped it'd help soothe her. “You're okay, Loona.”

A few hushed, quiet breaths escaped her. Some shuddering, others smooth.  

“You… y-you're coming back, right? No-no matter what?”

“No matter what.” He repeated. “I'm not abandoning you.”

Loona nodded. She took a long, drawn-out breath. Slowly, her breathing even out. She squeezed her arms around him, hands linking together around his thin torso.  

A few minutes passed of them just… hugging. Her breath evened, her head pressed against his chest. Mox… he hoped he was doing this right. He had never had any younger siblings to take care of, or really… anyone, to take care of. Not like this. 

“Okay…” She sighed, pulling a hand away. She pressed her palm into her eye, wiping away any tears. “O-Okay. I'm okay…”

“Okay.” Mox took a breath, the first one in hours. She was safe. Loona was okay.

“Y-You need to leave soon, right?”

He did, and he hated it.

“Yeah… I'm sorry. I… I should probably head out soon.”

Her ears flattened, eyes turning downward. “Okay…”

She pulled away, her hands moving to her chest. “You’ll be back tomorrow, right?”

“Tomorrow night, I promise. The morning after, at the latest.” He smiled. “And once I get back, we’re gonna go to the diner and grab a bite to eat, and head to the park. How’s that sound?”

A small smile crept across her face. “That sounds fun.” She nodded.

“It’s a plan, then. And, just to be sure,”

He pulled one arm out of his jacket, shrugging the shoulder off, before moving to the other. Moxxie gripped at the sleeve, holding onto it while he pulled his bad hand free. Carefully, he folded the jacket, then again, making sure it was neat. He sat it down in front of Loona.

“I’ll be back for my jacket, like that night. I was there when you woke up that morning with it, remember?” He stood. “I’m gonna be back for it tomorrow. You’ll take care of it for me, won’t you?”

She glanced down to it, then back up, before nodding. “I will, I promise.”

“Good,” He smiled. “You still have plenty of food and water, so you’ll be okay until I get back. If anything happens, run to the diner, and wait there until I come get you, okay?”

Loona nodded again. Good. Millie would look after her if anything happened. Not that it would. He hoped. Hell, he already felt a pit in his stomach at the thought of leaving her alone.

“Okay… well,” Moxxie stood. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Chaz, no doubt. He was out of time. “I need to get going. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“W-Wait,”

Loona turned, dipping back inside her fort. She shifted the blanket around, reaching under the pillow. Her hand came back up, holding a folded piece of paper. “I, uh - I made this, yesterday. You- I want you to see it before you go.” Loona stood up, holding up the piece of paper. Moxxie grabbed it, slowly unfolding the paper.

Oh… 

Oh, he could feel his eyes stinging. She was gonna make him cry.

It was a drawing, crayon. On the left was a red imp, white splotches under his eyes, and white hair. Horns curled back, with a large smile on his face. His arm was extended out, holding onto a gray and black figure. She had on a yellow sweater, and some dark pajamas, her tail sticking out behind her. She, too, had a large smile on her face, ears perked up.

It was him and her. Standing together, happy.

“Oh.. Loona…”

Crumbs. Tears were in his eyes. He wiped his eyes with his wrist, leaning down.

“This is great. Thank you, so much.” His arms went around her, hugging her close. “You - You keep that safe for me while I’m gone, okay? I want to keep that someplace special, and I don’t want to risk losing it while I’m out.”

“I will,” Loona smiled. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I do. I really, really do.”

Most of his life, he had caused nothing but pain, and got nothing but that in return. Hurting people, scaring them, all to help his father. It made him feel awful, and worse when his father praised him for it. He didn’t want to hurt people, and that was most of what he had done.

But… he had done some good. At least some. He was still awful, but at least he had Loona. Deciding to take care of her was the one good thing he had done.

“Okay,” He sniffled, wiping his eyes again, before he stood. Mox didn’t want her to see him crying. “I’ll be back tomorrow, okay? Be safe.”

“You too.”

Moxxie nodded, turning away. He had to hurry, he needed a new suit and shirt. It’d be cutting it close, but it was worth it.

Loona was safe, and she was going to be okay. She… liked him, enough to draw a picture of them together. All the hardship and stress was worth that.

Chapter Text

Fuck.

Fuck.

He grunted as he was pushed forwards.  His leg was aching.  Something had been cracked at the bank. Chaz…

He left him.  Fuck.  It shouldn't sting or surprise him as much as it did, but… it hurt.

“Please, you don't understand, I have to-”

“Shaddup!”

The guard pushed him forwards, down the long, decrepit hallway.  The jail was old, cracked concrete on the floor and walls.  The bars for the cells were rusted in places, with jagged pieces of metal sticking out in spots.  His uniform was probably the newest thing in the building, and the orange jumpsuit was at least a few years old, considering how it was stretched at the knees and worn at the elbows.  

He could feel his heart racing.  Loona… she was still out there.  He was supposed to be back by now!  

“You don't understand!  I can't-”

The guard jabbed his fist into his ribs, shoving him into the concrete wall beside him.  His forehead slammed into the concrete, the feeling shooting up his horns.

“The only reason you ain't dead yet is because of your father.” The guard spoke, pressing his nose into the wall.  “You better shaddup, stop complainin’, or I might decide you're not worth the trouble.”

Dammit.  Fuck.  He needed to get out.  Loona needed him.  

The guard dragged him across the wall, to a cell.  He pushed him inside.  Mox tripped over his feet, landing on his knees, sliding across the cell.  The door slammed shut behind him, the guard walking away.  He stood up, limping over to the bars.

“Wait, please!  You have to let me go!  I have someone out there!  They need me!” He pushed his head and hands against the bars.  Loona, she needed him!  “Please, just let me go!”

He shuffled to the side, pulling on the cage door.  As old as the iron looked, it was still incredibly sturdy.  The hinges creaked and squeaked, but held all the same.  He pushed and pulled on it, trying to find someway to open it.  It wasn't budging, dammit.  He had to get out!

“Let me out!”

He was only met with silence.  Mox huffed, taking long, winded breaths, leaning against the bars.  Fuck.  Fuck .  

Why had he been so stupid to go along with this?  He knew this was a bad idea, from the start.  Moxxie should've known better.  He should've just stayed with Loona.  Told Chaz to do it himself.  She needed him, and he left.

He was trapped.  She had to be worried sick.  He was supposed to be back hours ago.  

He had promised he wouldn't abandon her…  he…

Fuck .

He was screwed.  He'd never see her again… she'd never see him.  She was a little girl, alone, no one looking out for her.  And he would just be another addition to her pain…

Fuck.

His arms fell to his sides, the strength suddenly sapped from him.  He turned, his form limping towards his bed.  Bottom bunk, didn't have the energy to climb to the top.  He was an awful person.  And this was his punishment.

To rot in a cell, knowing he failed the one person who truly depended on him.  He laid slumped over onto the metal frame of the bed, resting his head on his hands.

Fuck… he was so sorry.

Loona.  She was alone.  Scared.  He had abandoned her.  Left her when he promised he'd be back.

Like his mother had abandoned him.

He felt tears stinging his eyes.

“So… who's waitin’ for ya out there?”

Oh…

He wasn't alone.

Mox pulled his tail into his bed.  He wasn't in the mood to talk.  Hopefully his cell mate would-

“Aw, c'mon, just making conversation.  Not much of a talker?”

The person- an imp, hopped onto the bottom floor.  He reached over, grabbing Moxxie's shoulder and pulling him up.  Mox flinched… only to find the imp grabbing onto his hand.

“The name's Blitzø, that ‘o’ is silent.  I've got a plan to get us outta this dump, and you back to your… whoever.”

Blitzø shook his hand.  He still had the cloth on it from the prior night, the blood fully dried against it.

The imp was a fair bit taller than him, with a white splotch marking half his face.  

“So, you good with guns?  You look like a guy who's good with guns.”

Moxxie paused for a moment, silence passing between the pair… before he realized Blitzø was waiting for him to talk.

“Uh, yes, yes sir.”

“Greaaat, we're gonna get along just fine,” He leaned over, wrapping his arm over his shoulder and pulling him close.  The imp was… a refreshing change of pace, to say the least.  In the mob, you were just as likely to get a knife in the back as you were to get a pat on it.  Blitzø… something was different about him.  Mox couldn't tell if he was being played quite yet.

“So, if we're gonna be getting outta this shithole together, I should probably know your name.”

“Moxxie, sir.”

“Nice to meet ya, Mox.” He spoke, pulling away from him.  “So, here's the plan,”

Blitzø scurried up onto his bunk, before hopping back down.  He had a pair of sticks, a crayon, and a… map?  It was hard to tell - there were portions that had been scribbled out, poorly erased, or covered with drawings of horses.  What he could make out was their cell, along with the hallway Mox had come in from.

He sat the pair of sticks down inside the layout of the cell.  One was a bit longer than the other.

“I'm pretty good at picking pockets, and you're good with guns.  So what you're going to do is call for the guard on the next shift change tomorrow -”

“Can we do it tonight?”

Mox really, really hoped they could.  The sooner he got out, the better.

“No can do, Moxxie.  They're gonna be expecting you to do something, since… well, you know.” He smirked.  “That show wasn't exactly quiet.”

Mox rolled his eyes.  “It wasn't a show.  I need to get out of here, as soon as I can.”

He meant it, too.  The fact he was still in there was enough to make him anxious.  His stomach felt like it was doing flips.

“Yeah, I get that.  But, unless ya wanna walk outta here with a few new holes in you, it's gonna need to wait a day.”

Dammit… why did he have to be right?  Mox knew better; like the guard said, he already had a target on his back.  They weren't exactly fond of his father, and less so of him after he tried to rob a bank.  There wasn't anything he could do right now, and it sucked.

“Okay…”

“Good, so, I'm the big stick,” Blitzø picked it up.  “Tall, quick, and damned good-looking.  This,” He grabbed the crayon.  “Is gonna be the guard.  Short, probably smelly, and with a keyring on him.”

The “guard” scooted towards the cell, Blitzø humming along the way.

“He'll be making his usual patrols, checking cells, when suddenly…” He sat the guard down, picking up the shorter stick.  “You and I get into a fight.”

The sticks clashed together, Blitzø grunted as they traded blows.

“Doesn't matter why - maybe you call me a bitch, or I talk about your girlfriend - some shit.  What does matter is that I end up on top of you.”

He sat the pair of them down, with him over Moxxie.  His finger pushed the guard into the cell.

“The guard will come in, ask us to break it up.  When we ignore him, he'll pull me off.  That's when I swipe the keys.  Once we have the keys, then-”

Moxxie raised his hand.  Blitzø grabbed onto the sticks, pushing them through the cell.  It took him a moment to notice Mox.

“... What're you doing?”

“I wanted to ask a question.”

“Then ask it, Moxxie.  Don't need to raise your hand.”

… Okay… maybe he felt a little weird raising his hand, but it's what his father always made him do.  It was weird Blitzø didn't know-

Didn't matter, still had a question that needed answering.

“Won't he notice his keys are gone when he goes to lock the cell.”

Blitzø smirked.  “That's where you come in, Mox. Once I've got his keys, he'll come for me.  You grab his gun, get him off of me, and we're home free!”

… that was his plan?  Lift his keys, his gun, and shoot their way out?  

“Is… this really the plan?”

“Only one I can think of, besides, y'know, waiting till our court dates.  Like there's such a thing as a ‘fair trial’ in Hell.”

Yeah… if it went to court, he was screwed.  No way he'd get off, no matter what mob lawyer his dad got for him, or what juror they managed to intimidate.  Moxxie wasn't sure if his dad would even help him, anyways.  He was stupid enough to get caught like this.

“Okay…” Moxxie sighed.  “So, guess we're just waiting till tomorrow, then?”

“Yep.”

Blitzø stood up.  His foot slid across the floor, swiping the paper under the bed, along with the sticks and crayons.  Great… he would be lucky if Loona was still there.  He didn't deserve her.  Mox just hoped he'd have the chance to make it up to her.

“So, Moxxie, what'd ya end up in here for?”

Blitzø sat on Mox's bunk, resting his elbows on his knees.  Mox shifted, scooting across the floor, against the wall.  He brought his knee up to his chest - the good one.  His other was still hurting a bit too much.  

“Bank robbery.  I got left behind.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah…”

Mox wasn't exactly talkative.  He wanted out, and he wanted out soon.  His mind wasn't exactly concerned with manners or politeness.  

Blitzø paused for a moment, before turning.  He shifted his legs up onto the bunk, stretching out over it.

“My girlfriend and I got into a fight, per usual.” He huffed.  “Lemme warn ya; do not fuck your boss.  A lot more trouble than it's worth.  Being a bodyguard is fun ‘n all, but the pay ain't exactly good, and when the one who writes your checks and calls you shit at your job is the same person who wakes you up with a BJ, sends all sorta mixed messages.”

… This was gonna be a long night.

“I mean, fuck , gotta work as a line cook just to cover my rent.  At least my roommate is chill.  I gotta introduce you two when we get outta here.”

“Sure, sure.” Moxxie spoke, turned towards the cell.  Blitzø kept speaking, but… he started to tune him out.  He needed to focus on getting out.  If there was any opportunity for him to get out sooner, he was gonna take it.  He needed to get out as soon as he could.  For Loona.

He missed her… fuck.  

Once he got out, he was gonna be different.  Be better.  For her.  She deserved someone to look after her.  The hellhound was a child- she didn't deserve the rough life she had.  She didn't deserve to sleep on the sleeps, scrounge for food.

Loona deserved a normal childhood- as normal as a person could get in Hell.  And, when he got out, he was gonna be the person to provide for her.  He was gonna be better.

For her.  He'd be better for her.

Chapter Text

“Oh, please.”

Moxxie shifted, groaning quietly.  Sleep had definitely made his leg more sore.  Though, with his cellmate, he hadn't had much time to think about it.  He had basically talked till he fell asleep, and Mox could only tune him out so much.  His eyes cracked open, turned towards the bars.  Blitzø sat against the wall, with a guard staring at him.  He held a phone up to his ear - an older kind, flip phone.

“Yeah, yeah, you got a show tonight.  I'll be there.”

Show, huh… he did mention he was a bodyguard, though he had kept details about his girlfriend pretty quiet.

“No, I'm not fuckin’ apologizing, Vee.  You started this shit.”

A few moments passed, before Blitzø's face tensed up.  His brow furled, lips curling downwards.

“Yeah, I don't need any cash.  Not like you have any extra to give, between the H-8 and the angel dust-”

He pulled the phone back, a loud screech escaping it.  Mox could exactly make out what was being said, but he was fairly certain he had heard “fuck you limp-dick” in the mix of loud, angry 

“Okay, okay, relax!” He shouted back, putting his phone back to his ear.  “I'll be there, get off my fucking case!”

Well… Mox guessed there were some benefits to Chaz being gone.  The pair of them would've gotten into an argument if they both got caught.  Now, he never had to see him again, and he was perfectly okay with that.

Wait, where did he get a phone from?

“Yeah, love you too!” He slapped the phone shut.  “Bitch… take your fuckin’ phone,” Blitzø walked up to the bars, shoving his hand between them.

“You know, she'd be willin’ to get you out if you compromised.” The guard spoke - a taller imp.  Mox would've had a hard time describing where there wasn't muscle on him.  The guy was very much in shape - guess he should expect that from a prison guard.

“Yeah, not happening.  Now, fuck off.”

The guard grumbled under his breath, turning and heading down the hallway.  Mox shifted up onto the side of his bed.

“Oh, you're up.  Good.”

“What was that about?”

Blitzø rolled his eyes.  “My girl.  Less said, the better.”

“No, I meant-”

“Not listening, Mox,” Blitzø grabbed his arm, pulling him up onto his feet.  “She wouldn't help us out anyways, our plan is a lot better.”

Was he serious?  If his girlfriend had connections, enough to get a private phone call with him… she could definitely get then out.

“Blitzø… it might be safer-”

“Nope, trust me,” He wrapped his arm around Mox's shoulder.  “You and I got this.  We don't need some hand-out.  We've got our plan out, just gotta wait a few more hours.”

… Ugh.  Seemed like his mind was made up.  He had a feeling this was going to be a lot more difficult than he made it out to be.  Moxxie needed to be ready, he guessed.  He had been prepared for it to be messy, but it was a bit different, knowing that there might've been a clean way to go about it.

“So… the plan-”

A loud, long creaking escaped through the hallway, followed by the chatter of a variety of people.

“Shit, they're early today.  Good, sooner we can get out, the better.”

On that, they agreed.  It was clear they didn't have much time - there was another creak - the door to the cellblock opening, if he remembered right.

“Quick, act sick,” Blitzø spoke, glancing over his shoulder towards the cell door.  Oh, Mox could act - he loved theater.  Just had to decide how to act.  Maybe he got sick from the bad prison food, or couldn't get out of bed, or-

“Actually - sorry Mox, but this has to be convincing,”

… Wait, what-

Blitzø punched him in the stomach, hard.   He felt his knuckles dig into his stomach, making him heave.  Mox coughed, wheezing quietly as he fell to his knees.  Blitzø rushed over to the cell door, waving the guard over.  He probably said something, but…

Damn, he could punch.  Mox barely noticed when the door opened - too busy trying not to empty the contents of his guts onto the floor.  Only thing that really snapped him out of it was Blitzø being pushed against the wall by the guard.  He had the keyring on his tail, and the guard had his elbow dug into the back of his neck.

Moxxie stumbled forwards, grabbing the guard by his shoulders.  The imp was taller than him - he had to jump up onto him to get a good grip around his neck.  He backed up, their horns clicking together as he went for the wall.  Blitzø grabbed onto his gun while he had him distracted, unloading two rounds into his chest.  The guard stumbled back, landing on the ground with Moxxie under him.

They had just started, and it was already a shitshow.  Moxxie grunted, pushing up on the imp's shoulder.

“Good work, Mox!”

Blitzø grabbed the imp's shoulder, pulling him off of Mox.  Mox stumbled up, huffing quietly.

“Next time… warn me… sir,”

His stomach hurt… but, he was in a better state than the guard, he guessed.

“Sure, sure, now, time to run.”

He slid the gun into Moxxie’s hand, before turning, heading for the door.  Blitzø sprinted out as alarms started to ring.  They blared as Mox ran behind him.  Too late for regrets, now.  They had to get out of there.

—

The car sputtered along the roadway, the wheel squeaking against the deflated rubber.  There were bullet holes riddling the side of the car.  Honestly, Moxxie was shocked neither of them had been killed.  Blood was covering his orange jumpsuit - some guard had tried to stop Mox, and…

He did what he had to.  Moxxie needed to survive.  He couldn’t die without making sure Loona was safe.  She needed to be safe.  That was all that mattered.  

“Gotta say Mox, you're a damn-good killer.”

Mox’s head shot up, towards his former cellmate.  He was covered in blood, too, though marginally a bit less than Moxxie.  Mox had the gun, after all - he had done a fair bit of the killing.  

“Thank you, sir.”

He spoke, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk as they rolled down the road.

“Are you sure no one's gonna notice?”

“The car's full of bullet holes, Mox.  People are gonna notice.” Blitzø turned towards him.  They were almost in town.  “But, doubt anyone's gonna do something about it.  Cops are probably busy cleaning up the mess we left at the jail.”

Right.  Mox had almost forgotten.

“Did you have to let the other prisoner's out?”

“Smoke ‘n mirrors, Mox.” Blitzø's voice became raspy.  He glanced around the cab, before spotting a coffee cup.  The imp slid his hand across the lid, flicking it open.  He pulled it up, looking inside.  “More bodies out there, less chance they come for us.”

“I guess… but-” 

“You worry too much, Mox.” Blitzø stared at the inside of the cup, swirling it around.  The car sputtered and struggled as the road around them became more densely populated.  More buildings and Imps, Hellhounds, and all other sort of demons.  

“Looks fresh, thank fuck.” He pressed the rim of the cup against his lips, taking a sip.  Blitzø took a deep breath as he pulled away, a sigh of relief.

“Tell me something good - who's waiting on you out here?”

“A… friend,”

He hoped he'd still consider him a friend.  He'd been a day late, after he promised her he'd be back last night.  

“Girlfriend, guyfriend, other?  All the above?” He turned towards him, taking another sip from the cup.  “Don't leave me hanging here.”

“No, no - she's… well, I'm taking care of her.”

Blitzø took another sip from the cup, before pausing, turning towards him.

“Taking care of…” The gears cranked along in his head, before he spoke.  “Shit, you got a kid!?  Why didn't you say anything?  I coulda gotten us out earlier!”

What?!

“You said the guard change was the only plan!”

“Yeah, only plan that had the best chance of getting us out in one piece, but shit man, we coulda thought of something else.”

“Ugh, just-” He took a sharp breath.  “Look, can you get us across town?  She'll be waiting.”

“I'll have us over there in no time,”

The engine revved as Blitzø pressed down on the gas.  He swerved out of the lane, into oncoming traffic.  Mox grabbed onto the door handle, bracing himself as the madman started swerved back into the right lane, cutting off a van.  

The rest of the trip was… a blur.  He was too busy fading in and out of consciousness to really notice.  Blitzø had driven them in and out of opposing traffic so often that Mox had almost gotten sick at one point.  Hell, he still might - the imp had been paralyzed with fear for the better part of…

Of how ever long it took them to get to where they were going.  He only snapped out of his panic-induced catatonia when he felt the car screeching to a stop.  Mox looked up, the laundromat in the distance.  The alley way was right beside them.

“Alright, we're here.  Didn't know where your place was.  Just point me towards the-”

Didn't matter.  Mox unbuckled his seat belt, pushing the car door open as he stepped out. 

“Mox?” Blitzø called out.  “Where ya going?”

He stepped towards the alley, feeling his heart moving up into his throat.  Please let her be there, please.

Moxxie turned towards the end of the alley.  Loona’s fort stood, the blanket curled up in the center.

Loona was laying on top of it, soft breaths escaping her.  She was clutching onto the picture she had drawn, her arms around his jacket. The poor girl had waited for him…

Her pillow was damp, along with parts of her blanket.

“Loona?”

The hellhound's ears perked up, along with her head.  Her eyes went up to his.

“You - you're back.”

“I'm back,” Moxxie smiled… she frowned, standing up and walking towards him.

“You said you'd be back yesterday, jerk.”

“I know… I'm sorry.  Things got… complicated.”

Loona looked up towards him, before stepping forward.  She held onto his leg.

“D - Don't scare me like that again.  I thought you were gone.”

Moxxie… he felt awful.  He didn't mean to scare her.  He'd need to be better.  Make it up to her.

“Told you, you're stuck with me for now, Loona.  Won't even need to worry about me going away for work.  Not here, anyways.”

Her claws dug into his leg, holding him tight.  He reached down, gently rubbing her head.

“I'm… really sorry, Loona.”

She shuddered gently.  The hellhound was scared, still holding onto him, but… she pulled back slightly.  If only to look up at him.

“What happens now?”

“Well…”

That was a good question.  Moxxie didn't know if he'd make it this far.  He had some ideas… but, one thing was certain.

“We need to leave.  Get everything you need.”

“I… don't have anything else I need,” She held up the drawing.  Moxxie smiled - it still made him so happy that she thought that much of him.  “Your jacket is there.  I can grab it.”

Loona turned around, quickly walking over to the fort.  She pulled the jacket out of the center of her bed, holding it up for Moxxie.  He'd need to get some new clothes - there was no way he'd be going back to the compound.  Chaz had fucked him over in a lot of ways, but Mox guessed he had to thank him for the chance to get away.  He just hoped his father would let him slip away from the family… his dad usually wasn't the kind to let someone leave, unless it was in a body bag or taking them for a “swim” at the lake first.

“That everything?” He spoke, grabbing onto the jacket.  Loona nodded.

“Good,” Moxxie held out his hand for her.  “Let's go.  Hopefully I can talk my friend into making a pitstop… I still owe you some bacon.”

Chapter Text

“You, uh… doing okay, Loona?”

Loona nodded silently, stabbing her claw into a piece of bacon and bringing it up to her lips.  She pulled it off, slowly chewing on it.  Her head rested against the counter top, dark rings around her eyes.  She… didn't look good.  Not at all.  Like she hadn't slept in days.

“Okay… I've gotta go talk with my friends.  I'll be right back, okay?”

“Okay…” She croaked, her voice hushed.  He placed a hand on the back of her head, gently ruffling her hair, before scooting out of the booth.  The “OPEN” sign had been flipped to “CLOSED” once Blitzø entered.  He hadn't realized Blitzø worked here, and Blitzø hadn't realized he had been here before.  Regardless, they knew they couldn't let anyone else in while the pair of them were still there.  

He stepped past the counter, walking towards the kitchen.  Millie and Blitzø were talking about something - Mox couldn't quite make it out, but if he had to guess… They were talking about what they were gonna do with the pair of them.

He pushed the kitchen door open, stepping inside.  His prison-issue shoes squeaked against the greasy, tiled floor.  Blitzø and Millie stood at the grill, another fresh plate of bacon ready for them.  He had changed into a fresh pair of clothes, at Moxxie's insistence.  Now instead of being wholly unsanitary, he was only slightly unsanitary, with a thin tank top and shorts.

“Hey, Mox.  Just the imp we were looking for.”

Millie peaked over shoulder, before turning around.  “Yeah, we were talkin’ about'cha ‘n yer girl.  What's, uh… what's you're next move?”

“I… don't know.”

He didn't.  For the first time in his life, Mox was out of his father's grasp.  By the same notion, he had lost any sort of sway or influence his father's name held.  He couldn't go back home, not with Loona.  What little cash he had saved up was back at the compound.

“You, uh… ya ain't got nowhere to go, do ya?” Millie spoke.  Mox felt a lump forming in his throat.  Pride, perhaps, or fear.  He wasn't sure.

“No.” He huffed, kneeling down slightly.  “No where.  I can't stay in the city.  Wrath isn't an option.  I… I don't know where I can go.”

The weight of his decision was starting to hit.  He knelt down, feeling his tail touching the cold, greasy floor, as his arms wrapped around his knees.  Mox felt like curling up in a ball, and letting Hell swallow him up.  He…

He was so incredibly screwed.  How was he gonna take care of Loona?  Had he just put her in more danger picking her up?  Where - where would he work?  He didn't have any skills besides killing.  Mox - he didn't-

“Hey, relax, we got a place you two can crash for a few days.”

Blitzø took a few steps forwards, past Millie.

“Gonna be outta town for the next week, you two can bunk in my room.  Mills and I share a place, she can take you there.”

Mox turned up towards Blitzø, before turning towards Millie.  She nodded.  

“Ya helped him break out, that's worth somethin’.  Besides, you got a kid, ain't sendin’ ya back out on the street.”

He wanted to leap at the opportunity.  It seemed like a golden chance to get back on his feet had been handed to him on a silver platter.  But…

“I - you don't understand.  My father -” 

“Is a self-righteous mobster prick, yeah, we know.”

“How?”

Millie snorted.  “Seriously, hun?  Comin’ in wearin’ them fancy suits, on the outskirts o’ town, and payin’ in cash only?  Ain't exactly playin’ it subtle.”

“Besides, you… talked in your sleep, while we were in prison.”

Well… seemed like he was just as bad at keeping a secret as he was being a mobster.  Guess he didn't have to worry about explaining the danger to them, if they knew, and were offering him a bed.

“I…”

He huffed, quietly.  Mox stood, holding out his hand. 

“Thank you.  I promise I'll pay you back in full when I can.”

Millie chuckled, before shaking his hand.  

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” Blitzø turned towards the grill, cutting off the main burner.  “Look, Vee's gonna kill me if I'm late again.  Gonna head out.  Mind helping her close up?”

“Sure, whatever you-”

Before Moxxie had the chance to finish, Blitzø ran past him, pushing the door to the lobby open.

“Yeah… he uh, tends to do that.” Millie smiled, grabbing the plate of bacon and handing it to Moxxie.  “If you can make the front nice, I'll handle the kitchen.”

“Sure,” Moxxie smiled, turning away.  He stepped back out into the dining area.  Loona sat with her head against the counter, her plate still half-full.

“You okay, Loona?”

He sat the plate down beside her, kneeling down beside the booth.  She nodded, her eyes staring past him.  Blank, not focused on anything or anyone. 

“You sure?”

Again, she nodded.  “Just… tired.”

“Me too.” Mox smiled, standing up.  “We'll be able to rest soon, okay?  Just a little bit longer.”

Loona nodded.  She glanced towards the plate, grabbing a single piece of bacon and lazily pushing into her mouth.  Yeah… she was tired, all right.  Hell, he was too.  He hadn't been able to sleep well in the jail last night.  Mox had, almost literally, been worried sick about Loona.  He was glad that she had stuck around, but… Well, he was still worried.

Speaking of things he was glad for, Millie and Blitzø.  He and Loona would be back on the street if they didn't offer up a room.  Mox had said he'd pay them back, and he meant it.  He just… needed to find work first.

Okay, one thing at a time, Mox.  He needed to clean the dining room, then head to Millie's place.  Let Loona get some rest, and then think of his next moves.

—

The door creaked as Millie shoved her shoulder into it.

“Dang thing - the lock's sticky, just gotta-”

She rammed her shoulder into the center of the door, the door finally popping open.  Well, “pop” may have been an understatement - it flew open, the handle ramming into the wall beside the door.  As he and Millie stepped in, he noted the holes left over from previous entry attempts.

Loona groaned quietly, her head resting against his shoulder.  She had fallen asleep on the van ride over, though she was starting to stir.

“Uh, Blitzø's room is that way, if ya wanna go ahead and put her down for the night.” Millie pointed towards a closed door at the corner of the small apartment, right beside the tiny kitchenette.  The place wasn't in the best condition.

The walls were coated in some sort of wallpaper, so old that Moxxie couldn't even attempt to guess what the design on them had originally been.  Whatever their design had been, along with its original color, had been stolen by age, replaced with a dull, gray color.  Some parts of the walls had started peeling away, showing off the rough wooden walls underneath.  The furniture was not much better - the couch had stuffing spilling out of its arm, with a few rips going down the sides of the couch and the cushions.  Worst of all, the place was incredibly messy.  Emptied beer and liquor bottles, old clothes piled up near the bathroom, dishes with half-eaten meals in the sink - ugh.  Mox had some serious cleaning to do.

But, that could wait.  He carefully walked towards the door at the corner.  Mox slowly pushed it open, the hinges creaking as he stepped inside.  The room was small, only really made up of a small bed and a closet.  It was slightly messy, but far less than the main room he had come from.  The bed was unmade, but there were plenty of blankets and pillows for Loona.  Plus, it was an actual bed.  There were a few posters on the walls of horses, as well as a… circus picture?  It looked like Blitzø and another imp, but he was missing white splotch over his eye.  Old photo, maybe?

Moxxie took a step towards the bed, carefully lifting Loona up.  He sat her down at the center of the bed, holding her head up while he pulled a pillow under her head.  She stirred, shifting onto her shoulder and pulling her tail closer to her chest.  He pulled the blanket up over her.  There… he hoped a good night's rest would help the hellhound feel better.  He slowly stepped back, towards the door.

Carefully, he grabbed onto the doorknob, pulling it closed as he stepped back into the main apartment.  He sighed quietly, before turning away.  Millie leaned against the couch.

“Hope the room's okay.  We, uh… ain't got much, but hopefully it's enough.”

“It's more than enough, thank you.” Moxxie smiled.  “She was sleeping on a pair of pillows and a blanket before, a bed is great.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… I didn't want to take her back to my place.” Mox admitted.  “It wasn't safe.”

“I get that.” Millie nodded, scooting off the couch.  “Y’all two have gone through a lot, looks like.”

“It's been… tough,” He admitted, rubbing the back of his head.  “But, she'll be okay.  I'll make sure of that.”

“And you?”

Him?

“What about me?”

“Exactly - what about you, hun?  You matter too.”

Right.  The degenerate former mobster mattered.  He almost snickered, the care in her voice so misguided. 

“I'm fine.”

“You… sure?”

He nodded.  Moxxie was fine.  He'd be fine.  How he felt didn't matter - there were others who mattered more.  Loona needed someone who could take care of her, not a messed-up, bitter, upset mess.  He'd swallow whatever feelings he needed to.

“Alright… well, y'all are welcome to stay as long as ya need to.” Millie turned, heading towards the other room of the apartment.  “I'm gonna get cleaned up.  You probably should too.”

Oh… right.  Still had blood on him.  It had dried to his orange jumpsuit, and his hands and wrists were caked in the flaky, dried remnants of the blood.

“Yeah… do you have a shower?”

“We got a tub, no shower though.”  Millie motioned towards the bathroom.

Just… a tub?

“Ah… okay.  Uh, thanks again.” He turned, heading towards the bathroom

He didn't usually take baths in tubs, just showers.  His dad… didn't really like Mox taking a bath.  He liked to add bubbles, maybe even the occasional bath bomb - his preferred kind of bomb.  It made his skin feel so smooth - he and Chaz had shared a few when they first started dating, at his place of course.  

But, like always, his dad eventually found out about it.  Mox didn't get to see exactly what happened, but the tub in his bathroom was gone one day, and replaced with a shower the next.  His dad had said if he caught him taking a bath with one of those “bombs” again, he'd make sure he got a real bomb in the tub the next time.  That put an end to that.

He…

Crumbs, he was a disappointment.

He slid into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.  Even alone, he still felt like his father was watching him.  Staring at him disapprovingly.  And Mox deserved it, too.  He was a disappointment, a failure in the one thing he was supposed to be good at.  He'd hate him too.

Today had sucked, a lot.  But… he had a roof over his head, and Loona was safe.  He was grateful Blitzø and Millie took them in, even if he wasn't sure why.  Mox wasn't exactly useful in most things.  He was taught how to kill, and he did it poorly in most regards.  The only things he really considered himself decent at were naming plays and cooking.  He'd need to make himself useful.  Show he was worth something to them.  He didn't doubt that they'd throw him and Loona out if he didn't.

Mox was a fuck-up, but he had to be better now.  Worth something to his housemates, to keep Loona warm and fed.  But, for the night, he needed to clean himself up and get rid of his prison clothes.

He'd have a fresh start in the morning.

Chapter Text

Okay… okay. This was going well.

The pan sizzled as Mox cracked another egg into it. He hoped Millie liked them - and that Loona would at least be willing to try. The kitchen wasn't well-stocked. There was only a carton of eggs and a half-eaten slice of pizza. Thankfully, the bare necessities of salt and pepper were present in the kitchen, though those were the only spices they had. The same could be said about any vegetables or fruits - he had found an apple on the table, but it had a bite taken out of it, with the exposed innards starting to brown. He trashed it, along with some of the empty bottles and boxes around the apartment. Mox made sure not to move or disturb anything that would bother the two tenants of the place - just picking up trash, things that should've been taken care of already.

The prison outfit… well, that still needed to be taken care of. It was sitting in the bathtub, just… waiting for him to do something with it. He figured he could burn it, but that could wait.  

The door to Blitzø room creaked open.

“Moxxie?”

Loona was up, good. The scrambled eggs were almost finished - he tossed a pinch of salt and pepper into the pan before pulling it off the flame. He sat the spatula down on the counter, walking over to the bedroom door. Mox smiled, kneeling down.

“Hey, Loona.”

Her hair was messy, tangled where her head rested against the pillow. The hellhound had slept hard. The fur on her cheek was slick with drool, and her eyes were a bit puffy. He was glad she had gotten the rest - the girl usually had a hard time getting five hours of sleep. She'd slept well over eight in a regular bed.

“We're… at your friend's place, right?”

“Blitzø's, yeah.” He nodded. “We can stay here for now. I was making breakfast, if you wanted to try some.”

Her ears perked up, before she nodded. Loona stepped past him, slowly examining her surroundings. She sniffed the air, before she shuddered.

“... eggs.”

“It's all they had, I'm sorry.” Moxxie stepped beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “They really aren't that bad.”

“Eggs are gross.” Loona turned up towards him. “Do I have to eat it?”

“Well, you need to eat something.” Mox spoke. The hellhound whined, before heading towards the table. He'd need to pick up some bacon for her soon.

Mox headed over to the oven. The eggs had finished by the time he got back. Nice, fluffy little pieces. He wished he had a little milk, maybe cream, really make them creamy. Though, it would do.  

He picked up the pan, along with the spatula. Mox sat it at the center of the table, before turning back towards the oven. He reached up to a high cabinet, pulling it open and retrieving a couple of plates. They were chipped in spots, and clearly old, but they'd be fine.

Loona stared into the pan as Mox sat a plate down in front of her, her eyes wide and her lips curled downwards. Her ears were flat against the top of her head. She was absolutely dreading this.

“Try a little for me, okay?”

Mox dipped the spoon into the pan, pulling up a small pile of the eggs and placing it on her plate. Loona turned down towards the yellow, scrambled pieces of egg, a quiet whine escaping her. He hoped she liked it… he, uh…

Well, he didn't have time to get his old clothes back. The jumpsuit and his father’s jacket were the only things he had managed to keep. He had to borrow some of Blitzø's clothes, which didn't fit, nor smell, particularly good. They were baggy, wrinkling on top of his lap. The shorts, which almost dragged against the floor, weren't much better. If it weren't for his tail holding them up, he'd be in a much worse state.  

He didn't necessarily care about the clothes he had lost, but his wallet, phone, any cash he had left… everything he had on him was gone, most likely destroyed or out of reach to him by now. For the first time in a long while, Mox was well and truly broke. He couldn't afford to get some worn clothes at the cheapest, back-alley flea market if he wanted, nor a pack of bacon at some rat-infested butcher shop. And, after the way the last job had ended, he wasn't keen on going back into town.

His father had been expecting cash, and a job well done. And while he had gotten the cash, it wasn't exactly the prettiest job. There'd be a lot more to pay if he came crawling back to him. 

He scooped another pile of eggs out of the pan, putting it on the second plate, before turning. Mox hoped Millie liked eggs, he wasn't sure what else she'd be able to eat for breakfast in the barren house.  

He hoped he'd be useful to them. Mox didn't have anywhere else he could go, and even here seemed like a tenuous place to stay. They didn't know who exactly he was, not yet. He… felt bad, about not telling. But, what choice did he have? It wasn't just him - it was Loona, too. He was the son of a mafia boss, one who'd more likely than not come looking for him. They had a right to know who they were sheltering, but Mox couldn't risk them getting kicked out. He couldn't risk putting Loona back on the streets.  

It seemed like whatever he did, he always ended up lying to someone. Sometimes others, other times himself. He… he would tell them, eventually. Once he had made himself worthy of the shelter they provided. Until then…

He… had thinking to do. When he had the time. For now, breakfast for Loona and Millie.

He reached across the sink, retrieving a pair of freshly-cleaned forks from the rusting drying rack. Mox turned around, placing one fork on Loona's plate, and the other on Millie's. Loona glanced at her plate, then at Millie's, before turning up to him.

“Where's your plate?”

He paused for a moment, before smiling. “I ate earlier. Go ahead,” Mox spoke, nudging her fork towards her. He wasn't sure what tipped her off - the fact that the sink was freshly emptied, or how much of their food was left, or the absolutely unconvincing tone of his voice, but she had figured out he was lying.

“You should eat.” Loona spoke. “You made me eat every night, even when I was tired.”

“You need it more than I do.” Mox smiled. He… hadn't eaten in a few days. There had only been a pair of eggs in the carton, and he wasn't about to take food from either of them. Loona was a child, she wasn't about to go hungry. Millie had taken him in, he wasn't gonna take from her plate.

Besides, he had grown up hungry. It was a common form of punishment for his father to withhold meals. Mox had deserved it most of the time, especially after his mom left. But… still, he wanted to make sure Loona didn't go without.  

Though, that reasoning had been completely lost on Loona. She grabbed her fork, pushing half of the eggs to one side.

“I'm not that hungry.”

Right. Sure, she had cans of mediocre spaghetti at her fort, but that wasn't really a meal.

“Loona, you need to eat.”

“So do you.”

She wasn't backing off. Nor was he. So… time to compromise, I guess.

“I'll eat later, I promise.” Mox knelt down, placing a hand on the chair as his eyes met hers. “Now, please, I want you to eat.”

Loona stared back at him, before going back to the plate.

“Fine. You better eat.” She turned back to her plate, picking up her fork. Annoyed, she stabbed into a piece of the egg, pushing it into her mouth. She chewed, swallowing it quickly.

“Okay?”

“Okay.” Loona nodded. Thank goodness, she needed something decent to eat.

“Good. Promise I'll get you some bacon soon-”

Millie's bedroom door creaked open, the hinges squeaking as it slowly opened. The door gently knocked against the fridge as Millie stepped out. She wore a loose, black t-shirt, and some boxers. Her hair was ruffled, tangled, some parts of it wrapped around her horns. The imp yawned, stretching her arms over her head as she walked forwards.

“Mornin’” She spoke, her voice a bit deeper than usual. Groggy, probably. At least the pair of them had gotten some decent sleep.

“Good morning, Millie. I, uh, made breakfast.”

She cracked an eye open, staring at the plate. “Oh, thank ya. Sorry we didn't have much,” Millie stepped over to the sink, turning on the faucet as she dipped her hand beneath it. She cupped her fingers and pulled it up, taking a quick sip of water. Loona stared at her, the hairs on her tail standing on end. She held onto her fork, lowering her head slightly. The hellhound still wasn't used to other people, besides him. He hoped she'd be able to adjust to the change of scenery, and their new roommates, soon.

Millie splashed some water onto her face, wiping the remnants of sleep from her eyes before wiping her hands off onto her shirt. She turned, reaching over and grabbing a chunk of the eggs, with her fingers. Bleh, so unsanitary. Loona had an excuse - she had claws at least. 

She shoved the scrambled eggs into her mouth, chewing loudly before turning around, towards the fridge.

“That's pretty good,” She said, bits of egg flying out of her mouth as she reached into the fridge. Millie grabbed for something, though she didn't find it. “Oh, darn it… knew I shoulda picked up some milk b’fore work yesterday.”

She sighed, closing the fridge and turning back towards the table. Millie sat down, opting to actually use the fork this time to eat. Thank goodness.

Loona lowered her head, trying to hide from the imp while she scooped another fork full of eggs into her mouth.

“So,” Millie spoke, before swallowing. “What's y’alls plan? Got anywhere y’all can go?”

Moxxie had been hoping to avoid that. He… 

Well, it was one of the few times in his life he had a choice. True freedom, he guessed. He thought it would be… well, more freeing. But, it only seemed like another hardship to handle.

Speaking of hardships, Loona looked uncomfortable. She wasn't used to other people. He might need to lend her a hand.

“Still working that out.” Mox stepped over, beside Loona. He placed a hand on her shoulder, hoping it'd remind her that she was safe with him. “I can't go back into the city. That much is certain.”

“Well, where can ya go?” She asked, stabbing into another bit of egg. Loona's head slowly rose, reaching up into the pan and stabbing into a bit of egg with her claws. “Gotta be someplace. Yer in the mob, gotta have connections.”

“Isn't that easy, I'm trying to get away from that, and I don't have anyone I'd trust enough for me and Loona.”

Loona nodded in agreement, though she still remained silent towards the other imp in the room.

“I see…” Millie reached into the pan, grabbing the last bit of eggs left inside it. “You don't have anybody? Brother, sis, mom or dad?”

He… didn't want to lie to her, but…

“No one.”

He had no choice.

“Alright…”

She gave him a glance- he couldn't tell she knew he was lying or not by it, but it was, at the very least, suspicious of him. He was only… slightly lying. His dad was sure to take him in, but Mox wasn't keen on going back to him. He had a chance to get away from the mob. Even if that meant leaving his family behind. Going back to Chaz wasn't an option either. Even if he was somehow still alive, Mox was not going to subject himself to the sex pest anymore.

“Well, ya got any cash at least?”

“None.”

Millie inhales sharply, probably realizing just how fucked Mox was. She took one last bite of her eggs, quickly chewing and swallowing, before standing up.

“Okay… lemme call Blitzø. His gal's always lookin’ for more help.” Millie grabbed her plate, setting it down in the sink. Loona scooted from her chair, waiting till Millie had stepped away from the sink to put her own plate into the sink. She turned, heading back towards Blitzø's room.

Oh… working with Blitzø again? His stomach still hurt after his sudden change of plans during the breakout. But… Well, he was desperate for the cash. Beggars couldn't be choosers, and Moxxie wasn't about to turn down an opportunity to get himself back onto his feet.

“Sure, that would be great.”

Loona loomed behind him, her hand gripping onto his as Millie's turned around.

“Gimme a little time, hun. I'll see what I can do.”

Before Mox had another chance to express his gratitude, Millie ducked back into her room. At the same time, Loona pulled on his hand. He'd need to tell her how much he appreciated her another time.

“Yes, Loona?”

He turned back towards her. She took a step back, hands moving up to her chest.

“You're gonna be working again?”

“Well… yeah,” Mox said. His body was sore, aching from the abuse it had gone through the past few days. He was just glad he had, somehow, managed to keep his face unscathed. Sure, his ribs were sore, and his knee was clicky and stiff, but he didn't have to worry about Loona seeing him in a worse state. 

“We need money. Gotta get you that bacon somehow.” He leaned down, smiling. She glanced down towards the ground, before going back up again.

“Do… you have to leave today?”

Right…

It had been a few days since they had gotten a chance to really rest. Mox… he did miss her. And, if he was correct, he had missed her too.

“Not right now, at least.” Mox knelt down. “Did you want to do something?”

“Well…” Loona spoke, turning back towards the bedroom. “Could we… make another fort?” She spoke, her voice hushed. “The room has a lot of pillows in it. It won't be as good as cardboard, but it could do.”

He smiled. “Of course.”

Her ears shot up, a small, but noticeable, grin on her face. “Okay!” She spoke, excitedly turning around and heading towards the bedroom. 

They had a rough few days, one day of rest wouldn't kill them. Besides, there wasn't much Moxxie could do, at least until he heard back from Millie.

So, time to make Loona a new fort.

Chapter Text

“Moxxie?”

He sat - well, laid - on the floor beside Loona's new fort, a pillow under his neck.  They had finished a few hours ago, and Loona had buried herself in the center of it.  Like she thought, this one wasn't as sturdy as her prior fort - the pillows were loose and soft, with the stuffing uneven and thin in spots.  But, eventually, they got it.  Loona might have to go without a few extra pillows, but… Well, she seemed okay with that.

“Yeah, Loona?”

She poked her head above the wall of the fort.  “Are we staying here now?”

“For now, yes.” He spoke, shifting slightly.  Laying flat on the floor was doing wonders for his sore spine.  Being off his feet for a bit was helping with his knee, too.  Though, he knew he'd need to get up, sooner or later.

“Do you like it here?”

“Yeah, it's okay.” She replied, reaching for the blanket on the bed.  Her claw tugged against the sheets, before eventually grabbing onto it.  The blanket was… covered in horses.  Huh.  Blitzø being into horses was a surprise- though, he hadn't really gotten the chance to talk to him, beyond planning their escape and listening to him drone on about his girlfriend.  

“What was your home like, Moxxie?”

“Big, and empty.” He spoke.  Memories of him roaming the halls of the mansion came to mind.  Though, those were especially hard to recall - he was young.  His dad did have a wing of the mansion cordoned off for his “blood” family, but… Well, that didn't last long after his mom left.

“Big?” Loona spoke, her head poking out above one of the walls of her fort.  The blanket covered her ears, the pair making small tents on the blanket.  “Like… an apartment?

“Kind of, but fancier.” He continued.  “My dad didn't really like anything cheap.  Only the finest for him.”

Him and people he respected.  That list was short, and definitely did not include Moxxie.  He had hoped he'd be able to get on it sometime, but… Well, he had dashed those hopes the moment he got caught.

“So, your dad is rich?”

“He likes to think so.”

Ugh, so disrespectful.  His father would've slapped him if he heard him talking. 

“He - uh - yeah, he's rich.”

“Are you?”

He snorted.  “No.”

“Why not?”

“My dad isn't really the kind of person to give.”

Mox remembered birthdays.  Specifically, his thirteenth.  It was the same year mom left, and his dad was in no mood to bake for him like she did.  So, he “hired” some baker to cook a birthday cake for Moxxie.  The guy ended up burning it, and…

Well, Mox got a gun for his birthday.  And his first kill with a gun.  He could still remember his ears ringing.  The imp's pleading and begging with his father.  Asking him not to do it - begging him to let him go.  He had a daughter.  A son, wife - a family.  He had already been tied to the cinderblock.  All Mox had to do was pull the trigger.  It should have been easy.  Mox remembered their “fishing trips.”  Pushing a person off a boat.  His dad always had them tied up, gagged, and a bag over their head.  No face to remember.  No pleading or begging to hear.  Not that time.  He- he hesitated, like a coward.  Mox shouldn't have.  He wouldn't remember what his father did after - what he made him see.  What torture his father - no, he, had forced him into.  Being a weak, spineless coward extended what should've been a quick death into a slow, agonizing one.  He shouldn't have crossed his father.  He shouldn't have ignored his orders.  He should've-

“Why?”

He paused… Mox… didn't really want to think about it anymore.  

“I… need something to drink,”

Mox leaned up, grabbing onto the bed post as he pulled himself onto his feet.  A variety of joints popped and aches flared up as he moved.

“Are you hungry?” He leaned over, using the mattress to support himself.  Loona turned up to face him.  “I can see if Millie can run and grab us something to eat.”

“Yes.  Bacon.”

Of course, like he needed to ask.

“You got it.” He smiled, before turning back towards the door.  His knee popped as he opened it, stepping out into the main apartment.

Millie sat at the table - the thing still a bit messy from their breakfast, holding her phone.  Her eyes shot up as he stepped up.

“Y'all two okay in there?”

“Yeah, just… needed some air.”

Mox sighed, walking towards the sink.  He turned the handle, a spray of cold water shooting out the tap.  Deep breaths, Moxxie.  They're just memories.

He dipped his hand under the flow, splashing some water onto his face.  His palm rubbed into his cheek fingers covering his eyes.

“You sure yer good?”

“Yeah… just…” He sighed quietly.  “Been… a lot.”

“Yeah?”

Another quiet sigh escaped him.  His hand went back to the handle, twisting it til the flow of water stopped.

“... Stress.  Makes some bad memories come up.  It's nothing.” He turned back towards her.

“Ya sure?” She stared back at him, brow turned upwards.  Concerned about him.  If she only knew.

“I'm sure.” He spoke.  Mox couldn't deal with how unusual his childhood had been - he needed to be strong.  It wasn't just him anymore - Loona was depending on him.

“Is… there any chance you can run and get Loona some food?  I'd go, but-”

“Sure, I know the deal.  Blitzø's gotten in enough trouble before,” She smiled.  “What do y'all want?”

“Just some bacon.”

Millie scooted her seat out, standing up.  “That all?”

“Yeah.  Promise, I'll pay you back when I can get some work.”

Hell, he felt bad just asking her.  He'd already taken an extra mouth in to feed, and her roommate's room, but now he was asking for favors from her.  With nothing to offer her but promises.

“You got it, hun.” Millie smiled, heading into her room.  She retrieved a coat - no, overshoot.  Flannel, to go over her black suspenders. “I'll be back soon.”

“Thank you.”

She turned, smiling, before heading out of the apartment.  The door closed behind her, before locking.  He sighed.  Loona would have something to eat.  Good.

… His stomach grumbled.  Ugh.

Sure, it had been a few days since he ate anything substantial, but he was okay.  There were more important mouths to feed than his.  Besides, he had gone a few days without a meal before.  A few more days wouldn't kill him.

—

“Millie, you shouldn't-”

“Nonsense, Mox.  Eat.”

Millie had brought home a lot more than just the bacon.

Two omelettes and two boxes of bacon.  He didn't know how he was gonna pay her back.

“I can't give you anything, not yet.”

“Ya won't have to.  Y'all've been through a lot the past few days.”

“Please, you shouldn't have-”

His stomach growled, loudly.  It was almost painful, it was so empty.  She smirked.  Darn his body - she had been proven right.

“Just take it, hun.  Think of it as a gift- a little celebration for survivin’ the past few days.”

Mox turned down towards the pair of boxes, then back towards Millie.  He sighed, grabbing them.

“Thank you.  I promise I'll have something for you soon.”

“Don't worry about it, just make sure you both have a good meal.” She smiled.  “Oh - speakin’ of celebratin’, I heard back from Blitzø.  He'll be here at midnight to pick ya up.”

Oh, thank goodness.  He needed work, badly.

“Thank you.” Moxxie spoke, feeling like a weight had just been lifted off his chest.  Like he could actually breathe for once.  “I don't know how to repay you.”

“You can start by feedin’ yerself and yer girl.”

Mox smiled.  He had a new job- or at least a chance at one- and Millie had been kind enough to get him something to eat.  He'd need to pay her back for her kindness.

“I promise, I'll make this up to you.”

She waved him.  “Go on.  Sure your girl's starvin’.” Millie stepped away, allowing Mox to pass by him.  He quickly entered Blitzø's room.  Loona greeted him at the door, her tail swishing against the wooden floor. 

“I knew I smelled food.”

“Yeah.  Two boxes of bacon for you.”

He handed them off to her.  Per usual, she tore into the boxes, nearly biting through the styrofoam to get through the meat.  Mox opened his own plate.  His hands were a little shaky - it had been days since his last substantial meal.  He gripped onto the plastic cutlery in the box with one hand, using his teeth to rip the packaging open.  His trembling fingers pulled out the fork, stabbing into the omelette.  He didn't even bother cutting, just picking the whole thing up with his fork and taking a bite.

And Christ, it tasted amazing.   He couldn't even be bothered to uphold any semblance of table manners, biting into almost as voraciously as Loona did with her meals.

The rest of his meal was mostly a blur - he remembered tearing off a piece of the styrofoam plate to get to his second omelette, but otherwise…

Well, once he was finished, he finally felt normal.  Not like a hollowed out husk. 

“You were hungry.” Loona spoke between bites.  He had somehow managed to finish before her.

“Yeah,” Mox sighed, relieved to finally be rid of hunger.  “Are you getting enough to eat?”

“Mmhm,” She mumbled, her mouth full.  Bacon grease clung to her lips and fur… it probably wasn't too healthy for it to be the only thing she ate, now that he thought about it.

She seemed to like the eggs well enough.  Maybe he could introduce her to some greens soon.  He wanted to make sure she stayed healthy.  As tasty as bacon was, he wasn't sure if hellhounds could live off of meat alone.

… Come to think of it, he didn't know much about hellhounds at all.  He had only ever been around imps and fish demons.  Before Loona, his only experience with hellhounds had been the ones pushing in on his father's territory occasionally.  He should probably read up on them.  If he was gonna take care of her, best to know what would be best for her.

Loona breathed a quiet sigh as she leaned back, her two plates finally emptied.

“Thank you.” She sighed, a quiet yawn escaping her.  “That was good.”

Moxxie smiled.  “Good.” He grabbed her plates, stacking it on top of his.  “Maybe I could bring you some home in the morning.”

Her ears perked up, turning towards him.  “You're leaving tonight?”

Right, he hadn't told her.

“My friend got me some work.  I'll be out during the night, but you'll be safe here.” 

Much safer than she was in that alley, anyways. 

“Can't I come with you?  This is different from your last job.”

“Different, but still dangerous.” 

“I'm not some kid.” She stared up at him.

“You're right, but you're still a kid, sweetie.” 

She groaned, falling back against the wall of her fort.  “Fine…”

He pushed himself up onto his feet, grabbing onto the stack of styrofoam plates.  

“I'll be leaving soon, but… if you need anything, you can trust Millie.”

“Fine…”

Okay.  That had been taken care of.  She was fed, was safe, and warm.  He could get ready without needing to worry.  Mox pushed open the door, stepping out.  He headed into the kitchen, stuffing the plates into the trash can.

Hmm… he didn't have many options as far as what to wear.  He had to take some of Blitzø's clothes - he didn't have much of a choice.  It didn't fit very well.  Mox was far shorter and smaller than Blitzø.  The only thing he could manage to wear comfortably was a tank top and some worn pajama pants.  It wasn't great, but it'd do.  He hoped that Blitzø's boss had an outfit or something in his size.  It would really suck to have to-

The door to the apartment swung open.  Blitzø stepped through, a gun holstered on his hip and some clothes draped over his arm.  The larger imp had on a fairly plain suit, with a pair of sunglasses.  He scanned over the room, before his eyes landed on Mox.

“Oh, good.  You're up.”

He walked towards Mox.

“Uh… I thought-”

Before he had a chance to say anything, Blitzø tossed the clothes over to him, slapping across his face.  Mox tried to lift his hands to stop the incoming assault to his head, but… he was too slow.  He stumbled back against the counter, blinded by the dark clothing covering his face.

“Get dressed, Mox.  Need you a little early.”

His fingers scrambled over the clothes, eventually finding a pants leg to latch onto.  He pulled it down, freeing his mouth.

“What's the problem?”

“My girlfriend is fucking wasted, and I have too much to do to take care of her and her friends.” He heard a door slam open, followed by a loud growl.  “Chill, kid.  Just getting some stuff.”

“It's okay, Loona!” Mox called out, managing to finally pull pants off his head.  The coat and undershirt were easy enough after that, the clothes falling into a small pile on the floor.  He turned towards Blitzø's room.  The taller imp had knocked over one of the walls of Loona's fort to get to his closet.  She had scurried onto the bed, growling at him from the corner.  Her claws were tearing into the sheets, teeth bares.

“Pistol or rifle, Mox?”

Mox scurried into the room, over towards the bed.  “Hey, it's okay.  He's not-”

“Pistol or rifle?”

He huffed.  “Rifle,” He turned back towards Loona.  Her eyes kept on the larger imp who had knocked over the wall to her fort.  “He's not gonna hurt you Loona.”

Blitzø pulled a large rifle out of his closet.  An older one- hunting rifle, if he was right. 

“Alright, I'll be waiting outside, hurry.”

Blitzø stumbled towards the door, knocking over another wall.  Another, louder growl escaped her.

“Asshole!”

“Loona!” He scolded, before taking a breath.  Needed to calm down - he was pissed at him too, but he wasn't in much position to do anything.  “Loona… it's okay.  We can fix-”

“Tha Hell's goin’ on?” He heard Millie speak, outside the room.

“Needed Mox a little early.  Think I pissed off his girl.  Glad she didn't try to bite-”

He stepped back, shutting the door.  Hearing him discuss the situation so nonchalantly was only going to make them both angrier.

“My fort!” She clambered down off the bed.  Loona grunted as she lifted up one of the walls, her claws scrambling for a piece of paper beneath it - the one she had drawn at the diner.  “He almost stepped on it!” She spoke through a growl.

“It’s okay,” Moxxie knelt down, grabbing onto the paper.  Thankfully, it was still okay.  He would need to get a frame when he got paid - first thing he was doing.  That'd protect it, he hoped.  “Let's get these walls up.”

“He needs to help!  It's not fair!”

“I don't think that's a good idea,” He sighed, pulling the blanket back from one of the walls.  “But trust me, he and I are gonna have a long chat about boundaries.”

“Hmpf.” She pouted, working on the other wall that had been knocked over.  He sighed quietly.  Seemed like his peaceful night had turned chaotic pretty quickly.

But, he needed the cash.  Beggars couldn't be choosers, and Mox didn't have anywhere else to turn.  The only reason he had a place here was because they hadn't found out who exactly he was.  He was sure that was gonna change the minute they found out… he needed the job.

So… once he helped Loona get her fort in place, and asked Millie to check in on her occasionally, he'd head out with his soon-to-be boss.  He just hoped things weren't too crazy with his girlfriend.

Chapter Text

“Your name's Maxxie, right?”

The succubus towered over him, even while they were sitting in the back of a limousine. Blitzø had opted to drive, leaving Mox to fend for himself with a pack of less-than-sober succubi. The leader of which, his boss had neglected to mention, was pretty famous.

“Moxxie, Miss Mayday.”

Verosika Mayday. Mox remembered her from a show she had in Imp City when she was starting out. He didn't go - he needed to work that night, and even if he didn't, he wasn't particularly the biggest fan of pop music.  

Though, that might need to change, if he was going to keep working as a bodyguard for her. Her latest album had been blaring through the speakers for the three hours they had been riding around the Lust ring. Three. Hours. He couldn't even get away from it when they stopped for gas or to let her and her posse raid some nightclub - the car needed guarding too, so that meant Mox had to listen to the same sappy, hyper, loud pop songs. For three hours. He was going to need something for the migraine, once they got back to the hotel.

“Ohh, Miss Mayday?” She leaned forwards, her top barely concealing her, er… chest. He stared forwards, hoping his blush would be unnoticed in her inebriated state. She was a succubus - being sexual was, quite literally, in her nature… but, still.

“I could get used to hearing you say that, Maxxie.”

“Moxxie, Miss Mayday.”

She rolled her eyes. Miss Mayday sat back up, leaning back against one of her crew - passed out with a half-empty beer bottle in her hand. They had been out since Blitzø picked him up… jeez, six hours ago, maybe? He was slightly concerned, but the succubus was snoring still, so… she should be okay. Hopefully

“Whatev, MoxMox.” She turned towards the front cab. Note to self- make sure MoxMox doesn't stick with her or her crew.

“Blitzø! Are we almost back to the hotel?!”

“Yeah, yeah, keep your tits covered!” He called back, having to yell over the… twenty-sixth repeat of the same pop song from her album. “Suckin’ Sunshine,” or something. Thank Christ they were almost back to their hotel. 

“You know Blitzø, MoxMox?”

“Somewhat, Miss Mayday.” His eye twitched at the usage of the nickname. Just a few more minutes… he could manage, just a few minutes.

“Heh - right,” She reached over, grabbing onto the beer bottle in the passed out groupie's hand. “Guess you owe him something. Usually just him for all of us.”

Well… she wasn't wrong, he guessed. She took a gulp from the bottle of beer, before the car swerved suddenly. The wheels screeched as they came to a sudden halt.

“Alright, we're here!”

“About time!” Verisoka shouted. “Coulda warned us, asshole! Almost spilled my beer!”

Before Blitzø had the chance to return the insult, Moxxie decided to open the door, stepping out, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. A few of Miss Mayday's incubi exited first, before a pair of succubi, and lastly, herself, holding onto the groupie. The woman snored loudly as she was dragged out of the car, smelling of sweat and booze. She grunted, managing to get her legs out of the limo before dropping the girl’s shoulders.

“Ugh, I am not carrying her up to the rooms.” She shifted, brushing off her hands. “Can you take care of her, Blitzø?”

“Ugh, V,” Blitzø sighed as he stepped around the car. “I've been driving around, babysitting, and bodyguarding for twelve hours. Can't one of your other crew handle her?” He stepped up towards her. The imp was a bit shorter than her, even with his boots on. She leaned down.

“Aw, don't be that way, BB,” She kissed him on the cheek. “You know I'll make it worth your while.”

Blitzø, very obviously, stared at her chest, before looking up into her eyes, smirking.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmmhmmm…” Her fingers went to his chest. “You've done such a good job today… handling me and my crew.” She leaned downwards, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Maybe I could handle you tonight…”

Her hand moved from his chest, to his stomach, and then…

“Uh-” Mox stepped forwards, interrupting the pair. “If- If you two want to head up, I can get her a room.”

The pair of them shot an annoyed glance at him. Verosika stood up, turning. “Sure, whatever. Just make sure she doesn't vomit on the floor. I am not paying for that shit.”

Mox nodded. The sooner he made himself scarce, the better. He scooped the girl - or rather, her shoulders- and dragged her into the hotel, hearing the pair whisper sweet nothings. Fifteen minutes later, and… Well, he didn't have any cash. But, there were couches in the lobby. 

He felt awful about leaving her there, slumped over the shitty couch in a luxury hotel, drunk off her ass, but he didn't have much choice. Mox tried to make her as comfortable as he could, without waking her up. She had ended up on her shoulder, head crooked against the arm of the couch… maybe he could talk Blitzø into getting her a room?

Well, he didn't need to wait for long. The revolving door of the hotel dinged as the pair entered into the hotel. Verosika was carrying Blitzø, his tongue in her mouth.

Okay, maybe “in” was a bit generous. He could… er, see Verosika's tongue too. Moxxie was used to seeing some PDA - most of his father's men weren't particular about where they had their fun. But, it felt a little weirder with Blitzø. The guy was an enigma for him.

Verosika opened her eyes, seeing the girl on the couch. She broke away, leaving his new boss with his tongue sticking out his mouth. “Couldn't get her a room? You said you'd take care of it.” There was an annoyed edge in her voice.

“I didn't have any cash, Miss-”

She rolled her eyes, turning to Blitzø. “Blitzø, baby, can you take care of this for me?” The succubus cooed. “I'll make it up to you later.”

“But - we -”

She stared at him, eyes narrowing. He stared back… oh crumbs. Mox hoped he hadn't started something.

“Ugh, fiiiiine…” He sighed, pushing himself from her grasp. “I'll meet you upstairs.”

She smiled. The succubus was satisfied with herself. “See you then, big guy.”

Big guy? What did-

Nope, he didn't need to think about that. Blitzø walked up to him.

“Alright Mox, wanna get this done quick.” He spoke. “What's it gonna cost?”

“The imp at the desk said 600.”

He reached into his back pocket. Along with being their bodyguard, Blitzø also handled meet and greets - or so he was told. Explained why he had a thick wad of cash ready to go. He flicked out a few hundreds, shoving them into Mox’s hands.

“That should be enough, plus your pay for the night.” He turned, heading for the elevator. “Be ready at 10 tomorrow night. Verosika’s got another show in Lust, we gotta be there by 12, and traffic is gonna be bad.”

“Wait-” Mox stepped forwards. “You're not gonna help me get her to the room?”

He huffed, looking at him over his shoulder. “Mox, she's not that heavy. You can handle it, right?”

“Well, I-”

“Great.” He spoke, before Mox had a chance to finish. “See ya tomorrow, Mox.”

“But-”

Before Mox had a chance to finish, Blitzø walked away. He headed into the open elevator, pressing a button and quickly making his exit. Mox sighed. Well… he got paid at least. Money wasn't bad - $200 for a night’s work. Wasn't as much as he got in the mob, but most of that went to his father anyways. At least this money was his own. 

Now, he just needed to get a room for her, get her upstairs and into bed, get back downstairs, head to the transit… walk home…

Ugh. He was dead tired already, and he had a ton to do. Better get started.

—

Moxxie stumbled up the stairs, his feet dragging against the sticky carpet. His eyes were barely open. The last time he was this tired…

The last time he was this tired… Hmmm… thinking was hard. He felt like he was walking in a fog. Cobwebs clogging up the gears in his head.

The last time he was this tired… oh, when his dad made him work two days in a row. He got three hours of sleep over 48. He didn't even remember the last few hours of it. This time, at least, it had been his own choice to stay up… almost 24 hours.

He yawned as he stepped up onto the second floor, turning towards the first door to the left. Mox twisted the knob, the hinges of the door creaking open. Millie had left it unlocked for him. Good.

The apartment was pretty quiet, not that he expected anything different. It was the dead of night - almost morning. Millie was probably asleep.

He shut the door behind him, locking it. With how things went with Blitzø earlier, he didn't expect the imp to be back tonight. Even if he was, he probably had a key. If not… Hell, he was too tired to really care right now.

He slipped off his jacket, grabbing the barrel of the rifle and setting it down against the frame of the door. He loosened his tie, but didn't bother taking it off. Mox stepped into their room. Loona had fallen asleep in her fort, on a pillow… he wished she would've taken the bed, but in his state, he was worried he'd sooner drop her than put her in bed without waking her up.

He slipped off his shoes. Uncomfortable, black dress shoes. He hadn't needed to do much running around in them, thankfully, but he hoped he'd be able to get a better pair of them soon.

Mox practically collapsed into the bed, head and horns falling into the pillow. He didn't bother to pull the covers over himself… sleep wouldn't wait long for him.

Even as tired as he was, and as… mixed, his first day had been, Mox was glad. The day had gone better than he expected. It was rocky at times - especially around Blitzø - but it was better than most days he spent in the mob. Looking over his shoulder, considered a pariah by anyone not in his little social club… having to sneak around to take care of a homeless hellhound pup.  

Now, he actually could feel some pride in his work, knowing that he wasn't hurting anyone. At least, not anyone who didn't deserve it. Some prick trying to hurt his client, or someone threatening her group. Loona had a bed and a roof over her head, plus a full stomach at the end of every night. Living here, working with Blitzø… he could get used to it.

He… liked this place. Huh. It felt weird. Home always felt tense, even when mom was around. But here… he felt relaxed. Safe. He just hoped Loona felt that way too. Moxxie never wanted her to feel unwelcome, or unsafe with him around. He needed to make sure she felt safe here. Even if that meant he needed to talk with Blitzø or Millie. She deserved that much.

But… for now, he needed rest. Plenty of it.

Chapter Text

Moxxie slowly made his way upstairs. His legs were aching, and his back felt tense and stiff, but… he was done for the day.

Yes, the day. As it turns out, Verosika Mayday does do shows during the day. Usually at a nightclub who opened early specifically for her, but… still. He was happy to get home at a reasonable time. Mox hadn't spoken to Millie in days, and he hadn't done much better with Loona. As it turns out, a few weeks of working exclusively night shifts does not mix well with a healthy social life.

But, he couldn't complain too much. The pay was good - good enough he had a few thousand hidden away. A bit more and he'd probably be able to afford an apartment of their own.  

He grunted as he stepped onto the second floor, walking over to the second door on the left. Mox twisted the knob, shuffling his way inside the apartment. Millie sat on the couch, her eyes darting to him as soon as he entered.

“Yer home early.” She smiled. “Blitzø cut'cha loose?”

He nodded, his eyes shut as he walked past the couch. Mox had gotten used to the layout of the apartment - it wasn't nearly as cluttered as when he first arrived. Blitzø and Millie were both rather, er… untidy. On the few nights where Blitzø came to grab a spare change of clothes and some more ammunition for his weapons, he had always left in a hurry, leaving drawers open and bullets laying on the floor. He had to rush to clean up after him one time - he didn't want Loona to get into any of his guns, which was a more likely possibility than he anticipated. She didn't know how to use them - not yet, anyways - and he intended on keeping it that way. For the time being, at least. He knew she'd need to learn eventually - it was Hell, after all. But… for now, she deserved some time to just be a kid. Satan knows she hadn't had much opportunity before they met.

He pulled the rifle off his shoulder, walking over to the counter and setting it down. Mox pulled out the magazine, setting it to the side. His fingers wrapped around the bolt, pulling it back. A bullet ejected, shooting up into the air. He reached up, swatting at it and closing his fingers around the casing. Heh, Mox still had some coordination left. He was getting rusty- it had been almost a full month since he actually had to use a gun.  

“You ‘n yer girl got anythin’ planned tonight?”

He pushed the bullet into the clip, the spring clicking as another thick, brass bullet was added to its load.

“Not really.” Mox yawned. “Has she been out today?”

“Nope.” Millie sighed, turning back towards him. Her arm draped over the back of the couch. “Ain't for lack of tryin’, mind ya. Only thing she'll take from me is food, ‘n that's after I walk away from the door.”

Moxxie glanced towards her, before exhaling, his shoulders dropping, though still just as tense. He was… worried about her. From the research he had done, both into hellhounds and raising a child, they needed a healthy social life. Loona… only spoke to him. He was the only one who could carry a conversation with her. She barely spoke to Millie, and so far, her only interaction with Blitzø had been calling him an “asshole.”

His head turned away from the rifle, towards Millie. Mox pulled the bolt further back, blindly continuing to disassemble the gun. “You, uh… wouldn't happen to have any experience with this, would you?”

Millie shook her head. “Got a younger sister, but we ain't that far apart in ages. Sorry hon.”

Moxxie sighed. He glanced down to his rifle. The bolt was out, ready to be cleaned. He worked on the barrel next, gripping it just beneath the sights.

“I just…” He stopped, the barrel popping out from the wooden stock. Moxxie was worried… he needed to do something. Loona deserved the best that life had to offer. Not some wannabe ex-mobster crashing at his boss's place. She had a hard life - harder than anything he'd ever dealt with. Moxxie wanted her to have the best shot at recovering and growing up as normally as she could.

How was she supposed to do that if she didn't interact with people? How could he think raising her was a good idea if he couldn't help her?

He needed to be better. To open her up, somehow. A therapist would've been the better choice, but Mox didn't earn enough yet to even think about getting one for her. But…

Maybe there was another way.

“Do you guys, uh… have board games?”

—

Loona grunted as she reached over the table, her claws scraping as the cheap aluminum pieces.

“Did you need help getting your-”

“I wanna be the queeve.” Loona said, continuing to paw at the pieces. Moxxie smiled, pushing the queeve forwards a bit. He picked the hat - fedora, actually. Mox had seen enough to discern what the small, metal piece was. Though, he was mostly focused on Loona.

“Have you played Kleptocracy before?”

“Klep-toe… what?”

That answered his question. He smiled. 

“Kleptocracy,” He repeated, pushing the dice towards her. “Gotta roll the dice, whatever number you get is the spaces you move. Whatever space you land on, you own. Whoever forces the other out of business wins.”

Loona stared up at him, a bit confused. She looked better - Moxxie had picked up some decent clothes for her last week. She had opted for a sweater that was just a tad too big for her, and some sweatpants. Though, it seemed clothing was the last thing on her mind. She was more focused on processing what he had tried to explain. 

“Okay…” She spoke. “I think I'd be ready.”

“Good.” Moxxie smiled. “Roll the dice, then you can move your piece.’

Loona scooped up the dice. She held them in her hand for just a moment, before gently tossing them onto the table. A pair of threes.

“So… I move…” It took her a moment, her fingers tracing across the number of spaces she needed to move. Her claw tapped against the sixth spot - a hospital. “Here, right?”

“Right.” Moxxie nodded. She smiled - a bit proud of herself, before moving the piece to the appropriate space.

“What do I get?”

Moxxie leaned over, pointing towards the bottom of the space. She leaned forwards.

“Hoss… hoss-pit-al.” Loona sounded out the word, before leaning back. “Hospital?”

“That's right,” Moxxie smiled. “You know what that is, right?”

She shook her head.

“It's a place where you can get better if you're sick.”

“Oh… So, like an infirmary?”

“Yes, like that.” Moxxie picked up the dice, shaking them around in his hand for a bit before tossing them onto the board. Snake eyes - a pair of ones. He scooted his piece over to the second space - a bookstore.

“Did you have one of those at your old place?”

Loona paused for a moment, her shoulders dropping. She glanced over to him, then back down at the board. He knew she didn't like talking about it, but… he needed to know what happened to her before. If she was gonna get better, and open up, they needed to address her past.

“Uh… yeah. Ended up there a lot.” She spoke quietly, before sitting up. “You ever been to a hospital before?” Loona spoke, grabbing the dice. She shook it in her hands, before tossing them onto the board.

“Sixes, nice.” Moxxie smiled. Loona hopped up in her chair as she reached over grabbing onto her queeve. “I've never been sick or hurt enough to go, but I've taken my father there before.”

“Yeah?” Loona spoke as she slowly pushed the piece down the path. She turned the corner, before turning up to look at Moxxie. “What's it like?”

“Very clean, and calm. As calm as things can be here, anyways.”

He glanced down to her piece. She had stopped on top of a large cash symbol.

“Maaa… Mammon, right?”

“Right, you remembered.”

She smiled, scooting the dice over to him.

“Whose Mammon, anyways?”

“He's… someone important.”

Moxxie didn't really feel like getting into detail with who exactly Mammon was - he'd need to explain who the Sins were, what purposes they'd serve… too much for a conversation over Kleptocracy. Besides, she was the focus for the moment, not him, Mammon, or whatever else that might come up in the conversation.

“Like your dad?”

“A bit more important than him.” Moxxie spoke, grabbing onto the dice. He shook them, tossing them onto the board.

“A… uh…” Loona paused for a moment, looking down at the dice. A two and a four. That made…

“Six!” She shouted. Moxxie nodded, smiling.

“Good job,” He grabbed onto the fedora piece, moving it forwards a few spaces. “Did you learn how to count back at your old place? They teach you?”

She stared down at the board, watching Moxxie slowly slide the piece up the board. Loona nodded. “I learned from some of the others.”

“Others?”

He stopped at a school - a college, more specifically. 

“Yeah,” She reached over, grabbing the dice. “We didn't really get lessons or anything like that. Just waiting.”

Just… waiting? No teaching, or Hell, even basic math? She knew how to read - slowly, but still. It was a bit concerning that she was having trouble… he needed to keep going. Find out where she was, and where she needed to go.

Loona kept her eyes planted on the board, rolling the dice. A pair of twos.

“Four,” She spoke, a bit quicker. And, just as quickly, she moved her piece to a space with a handgun.

“Arm… or… y.” She sounded out the word. “What's an armory?”

“A place where people sell guns.” Moxxie spoke, reaching over and grabbing the dice. “What about friends? Did you have anyone you hung out with?”

Loona’s head and eyes kept firmly pointed on the game. She glanced up to him, then back to the game. Her tail had slowly become more hitched, hairs standing on end. Occasionally, her ears would twitch. She was anxious - on high alert for any sort of threat.

“No. Never needed them.” She spoke quickly. “Roll.”

Moxxie did as he was told, rolling the dice. Another pair of ones. Moxxie slid it across the board. A shoe-shining store. Loona didn't even try to pronounce it, grabbing onto the dice.

“You didn't need any friends?”

“Yeah.” She answered as soon as the words came out. “They all left anyways. Got adopted.”

Loona tossed the dice - a bit too hard, nearly sending them off the table. A pair of ones. She hissed quietly, moving forwards two spaces.

“Loona, are you-”

“They all got adopted, and lived happily ever after.” She spoke, fingers squeezing the side of the table. “Not one ever got brought back. I was so angry… Bit one or two of the others, and almost got the thumb of some asshole who tried to kick me.”

Her claws dragged across the board, creating a long, jagged scratch as she dragged her piece up the board. It landed on a small building - concrete, with barbed wire on the top.

“They were perfect. Me? I got brought back three times.” 

She growled, staring down at the building. Her claws ripped into the cardboard.

“And they said it was gonna happen every time. That I was never gonna be adopted, because I was too stupid. Too angry. Too much work.”  

A low, constant growl was escaping her. Her eyes were wet, staring down at the building. A prison.

“Why even bother going back when I knew I was gonna be there forever.” She growled quietly, claws digging into the cardboard around the prison. “Why try to make friends when they were all gonna leave anyways…”

Her claws slowly tightened around the square, tearing chunks in the board.

“Loona…”

“Why try at all.”

She stopped… pulling back her fingers. The piece had been mangled, the prison unrecognizable. She stared down at it, taking a few deep, quiet breaths. Moxxie… felt so sorry. He didn't mean for this - dredging up painful memories. Feelings of inferiority, of worthlessness… he…

“Loona… I'm so sor-”

“I don't wanna play anymore.” She spoke quietly, before sliding off the chair. Without another word, she headed into their room, closing the door behind her. Moxxie stared down at the mangled board, practically left unusable by Loona's attack. Pieces had been scattered across the kitchen floor - thrown off the board by Loona's scratches and claws.  

He… wanted to go check on her.

No, he needed to. Moxxie stood, scooting past the pieces of the board on the floor. He knocked on the door.

“Loona? Can I… come in?”

He pressed his ear against the door, waiting for any sort of response. Mox could feel his heart in his throat - to contrast with the bottomless pit forming in his stomach. He waited a few moments longer, before knocking again.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…” He paused, taking a quiet breath. Keep calm… don't let anxiety win.

“I want to make sure you're okay, okay?”

Again, nothing. He didn't want to intrude, but… he needed to be sure she was okay. Moxxie wouldn't forgive himself if he left her alone after that.

Slowly, he pushed the door open. Light seeped into the darkness, a small, gray ball of fur curled up on the bed, facing the wall. Loona's tail was curled up around her body, arms and legs drawn in as close as she could manage.

“Loona?”

She stared at the wall, blankly. No words, not even a glance. Slowly, he took a step towards her. Gentle, soft steps.

“It's okay… you don't have to speak.”

He stopped at the edge or the bed, slowly lowering himself onto his knees. Mox was careful, slow with his movements. He didn't want to startle her.

“I'm so sorry… I didn't mean to… bring up all that.” He spoke, softly. “I can't imagine what you've been through.”

Again, nothing. Not even a whisper, nor a glance. He paused. Moxxie… hated seeing her like this. How could anyone have considered her worthless? She was funny, kind, loyal to a fault - there were plenty of times she could've cut and ran from Mox, but had chosen not to. There were just as many times where she would've avoided a lot of pain and grief, or would've benefited more, from ditching him. But… she stuck around. Just like he had stuck to her.

“I…”

He didn't know what to say. His brain couldn't think of the right words - too addled with worry and rushing to think of anything that might make things better.

He… needed to stop thinking. For a few moments.

“You… asked me after we first met… why I was helping you?”

Mox spoke, his hand gently moving onto the bed. He took a slow, quiet breath.

“I… I-I guess I didn't know why I had, at first anyways. You were alone, cold, and penniless in a bad part of town. I couldn't just leave you there.” He took a slow, shaky breath. “But… as I got to know you, I saw more of your personality come out. How you were funny - creative, kind…”

He swallowed, his throat dried up.

“And… I got to see how you affected me. I felt alive. You gave me a reason to be, Loona. A reason beyond doing something I hated, for someone who didn't respect or care about me.”

Moxxie could feel tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He… didn't realize just how important she had been. She gave him a purpose. A reason to live. He could've just as easily curled up and died in that bank, or let himself rot in jail, but… she kept him going. The thought of her being alone in the world kept him going.

“You gave me hope when I needed it most, and you helped pull me to my feet when everyone else was telling me to give up. You're worth everything, Loona.”

He gently leaned forwards. Slowly, carefully, he placed a hand on her shoulder. She was trembling, her tail wrapping tightly around her stomach. 

“And… I'm so sorry I went so long without telling you that. You're not worthless, or too angry, or too much. You're perfect, just the way you are.”

Slowly, he stood up. He sat down on the bed beside her.

“Don't let anyone make you think otherwise, okay?”

His thumb rubbed small circles on her shoulder. She leaned up, tears filling out her eyes.

“Moxxie…” Her voice trembled. She fell forwards, against his chest. Carefully, he placed an arm on her back, gently rubbing small circles between her shoulder blades. He could feel her trembling against him, his shirt getting wet.

“Thank you.” She spoke, muffled by his jacket. If only she knew…

He was the one that needed to thank her. She was everything to him - his reason to keep going on in life, when it would've been so much easier to just give up. He needed to make sure she knew that. Just how special she was, and just how much he leaned on her. She deserved to feel happy, and she deserved to feel loved. Loona deserved good parents.

Or… at the very least, a good father.

Chapter Text

 "Twelve… minus ten… equals… two, right?”

Moxxie smiled. “Exactly, good job.” 

Loona sighed quietly, a slight smile on her face. Beside her sat a stack of books - basic math, spelling, and reading. They wouldn't provide as good an education as a teacher could, but… Well, after last week, it was clear Loona was not ready to be shoved into such a public environment, not yet anyways. They had barely been in Blitzø's apartment a couple of months, and it was clear she had some issues with trust and socializing that needed to be worked through. Besides, even if he did think she was ready for such a public environment, he didn't have any of the necessary documents for her to get into a public school. He'd need to get her a doctor’s appointment, check if she had any vaccines, hellfleas, blood work, or medicine that was needed, and that wasn't even considering the logistical nightmare of getting her to and from school without a car of his own.

He had, er… done a bit of research into what would be needed, before realizing it might be a bad idea.

So, he chose some basic books for her to go through. Basic arithmetic, spelling, and reading. It wasn't much, but Mox wasn't sure if there was much else he could do for her at the moment.

He reached over the table, grabbing the variety of papers she had gone through working out the problems, along with the book itself.  

“Alright… I think you've done enough for the day.” Moxxie stood, stacking the books at the end of the table. Most of them were ripped in spots, with some torn or missing pages, the bindings ripped and worn. He managed to pick them up at an old bookstore - and they were clearly showing their age.

“Good job today, you're doing great.” Moxxie smiled as he stood, an apron draped over his chest, stomach, and knees. It was a bit too big for him, but it served him well enough. “Dinner will be ready soon, alright?”

“Okay.” Loona nodded. “Can I go play in my fort?”

“Of course, you've earned it, kiddo.” Moxxie smiled. Loona hopped off the chair, quickly walking into their room. He turned towards the stove, a pair of pots sitting on the pair of burners. One was boiling, with spaghetti noodles rising to the surface, before being dragged back down. He grabbed his spoon, giving the noodles a quick stir - he didn't want any getting stuck to the bottom of the pot.

The pot to its left was filled with a red sauce - tomatoes, garlic, parsley, two bell peppers, a large onion, some pean beef, and just a sprinkle of parmesan cheese. His mother's recipe for spaghetti sauce. He'd spent so many afternoons helping her prepare it - between target practice and sitting in on his father's meetings, of course. Mox could practically make it blindfolded, at this point.

The recipe was fairly cheap, too. He'd have made meatballs to go along with it, but Mox doubted he'd have the time needed to fully cook them while helping Loona, or the space to properly make them in the small kitchenette. This would be good enough, he hoped.

He grabbed his spoon, dipping it beneath the surface and pulling up a fair amount of the sauce. Mox carefully sipped on it - it was incredibly hot. It tasted great - the acidity of the tomatoes balanced well with the taste of the onions and garlic. Plus, the pork added a good texture to the sauce. It was not as good as his mom would've made it, but still good enough for dinner.

He sat the spoon to the side, reaching down to the knobs controlling the burners. Mox twisted them, setting the sauce at a low heat. Now, it just needed to simmer while he drained the noodles.

He picked the pot of noodles up off the burner, stepping over to the sink. Blitzø and Millie didn't have a colander, nor any sort of tongs or larger forks he could hold the noodles down with. Scooping them out with a spoon had proved neigh on impossible, and Mox imagined the case would be similar with a smaller table fork. So… he needed to be careful. Imps didn't exactly get hurt by hot liquids, but the feeling certainly wasn't pleasant.

He reached over, retrieving his spoon and rinsing off the leftover spaghetti sauce. He tried to get the noodles to one side of the pot, pressing them down with the bottom of the large spoon. Slowly, he started to tip the pot over, pouring the hot water into the sink. He took it slowly, keeping a small, steady stream of water flowing out of the pot. If he kept this up, it'd be empty soon -

A pounding slammed against the door. Mox jumped, hot water splashing into the sink, along with some of the noodles. Thankfully, he avoided getting any on his hand, but that was the least of his worries. He dropped the pot on the counter, turning around and rushing over to the door. Mox grabbed his rifle, sat by its usual spot next to the door. His fingers fumbled with the bolt, hands shaking. Had his dad found him? Fuck, if it was Alessio, or anyone of the other guys, he wasn't sure if a bullet would-

“Moxxie?”

Millie spoke loudly, her voice strained and cracking. She knocked on the door again, a bit softer.

“Please, open the door…”

Right… right, Millie got home around this time. He was okay. His dad hadn't found him. He took a quiet breath, sitting the rifle back down. Mox headed towards the door, his hand wrapping around the knob. He twisted, opening the door.

“Hey-”

Millie stood in front of the door, leaning against the door frame, eyes half lidded. Flour, syrup, and other stains of the day clung to her uniform, along with her arms. Her hair was messy, combed unevenly in places, with some flour clinging to the curled ends. She sighed quietly, standing up.

“Thanks.” She stepped past him, barely even acknowledging him. The pair usually spoke once she got off work, before Blitzø picked him up. Her voice was monotonous, flat. Tired.

“You… okay?”

Only a groan escaped her lips. She walked past the couch, into her room. That seemed to answer his question. Rough day at work, it looked like?

He shut the door, turning and walking back towards the kitchenette. At least she didn't need to worry about food, he guessed. Mox had made more than enough for everyone, even Blitzø. He didn't eat with them often, but it was nice to be prepared, just in case he popped in.

It was rare to see Millie so downtrodden. The woman usually wore a smile on her face, always cheery and willing to lend a hand. Even from the brief moment he had seen her, he could tell that would not be the case today. She had been at work often, as of late. Blitzø's duties with Verosika, both as a bodyguard and a boyfriend, had kept him from working at the diner, which meant she picked up the slack. She had always seemed to handle the added pressure in stride. But, he supposed there was only so much one person could do.

He gripped onto the handles of the pot of noodles, slowly tipping the hot water out. A few noodles had flowed out with the water, adding to the small pile in the drain, but overall, he managed to mostly drain the pot without losing too much of the pasta. With that drained, he could get to work on plating their food. He had already sat out two bowls for himself and Loona, but…

Millie usually ate at work, or brought something home. Mox had a feeling that she hadn't had the opportunity to eat there, and she hadn't brought anything with her in. She wasn't about to go hungry, especially when she already seemed to be having a bad day. He reached up, opening the cabinet above the stove, retrieving a bowl. Mox sat it beside the pair of bowls. He grabbed four forks from the sink - freshly cleaned, of course. Three to eat with, and one to scoop out the noodles.  

He dug his fork into the pasta, picking a good chunk of it up and sitting it into one bowl. Then, the next. Finally, once he got to third, he picked up the spoon, starting to cover the noodles. He put a bit extra in the middle - Loona's bowl, of course. Mox did the same with Millie's. He wasn't particularly hungry. Besides, it seemed like she had a rough day - the least he could do for her is offer her a warm meal.

He pushed a fork into Millie's bowl, sliding his fingers under the bowl and picking it up. Mox turned, heading to Millie's door. The door was already cracked, but he opted to knock, just in case.

“Millie?” He called out. “I made some food, have some extra if you want.”

A few moments of silence passed, before he heard a hushed inhale.  

“It's open,” Millie spoke, her voice high, a bit too energetic. He pushed it open. In the brief amount of time it had taken him to drain the noodles and make their bowls, Millie had changed out of her uniform and into more relaxed attire. A towel was wrapped around her head - she had just finished washing the flour out of her hair, apparently. She had opted to wear some shorts and a tank top that was about two sizes too large for her. Millie smiled as he walked in, though Mox could feel it wasn't really sincere. She wasn't happy - wrinkles had worked themselves into the corners of her eyes, along with dark bags under them. Her head was low - slouched forwards on the bed.

“I, uh… made some spaghetti.” Mox stepped in, walking up to her. “Figured you might not have eaten, and I made plenty.” He held out the bowl, fork facing towards her.

“Aww, that's sweet of ya.” 

Millie tentatively grabbed the bowl with one hand, taking the fork in the other. She dug her fork into the bottom of the bowl, pulling up some noodles. Millie took a bite, chewing quietly on her meal.

“Mmh!” She… grunted, he guessed? While she had her mouth full, it was a little hard to tell if it was a good grunt or a bad one. Though, his concerns were quickly put to rest, when she went in for a second bite. Millie turned up towards him, swallowing.

“Dang, Mox. Didn't know ya could cook.” She smiled. “Pretty darn good, too.”

“Oh, please,” He waved off her compliment. “It's a family recipe, my mom taught me how to make it when I was a kid.”

“Yer gonna have to share,” Millie spoke, taking another small bite. “That or start cookin’ like this every night.”

“Hah, well, recipe's a secret, so…”

“Yer hired,” Millie chuckled, taking another quick bite. “Thank ya, really. I needed this.”

Mox smiled. “No problem.”

“Work was kinda rough today,” Millie spoke between bites, practically inhaling the food. “This was exactly what I needed - home cooked meal, ‘n good company.”

Moxxie smiled. “Happy to provide. You and Blitzø took me and Loona in, the least I can do is cook for you.”

“How's she doin’, anyways? Teachin’ goin’ well?”

Moxxie nodded, taking a step closer. “She's a fast learner. A lot faster than I was.”

“Heh, you ‘n me both.” Millie leaned back, straightening up her posture. An energy had come back to her - actual signs of life, rather than misery.

“My ma taught me math ‘n stuff, while my pa taught me how ta win the local Pain Games.”

… Pain Games? He knew about the Harvest Moon Festival, and he guessed he could recall his mom talking briefly about a “pain game.”

“What's that?”

Millie nearly choked on her pasta. She sputtered, before swallowing.

“You ain't never been to the Pain Games?!” Millie spoke, standing up. “Oh, I gotta take you there this year! Is a darn good time!” She was nearly bouncing as she spoke. “‘S a competition ta find out who's the strongest imp! Me and my sis competed all the time growin’ up!”

The imp practically bounced in place as she listed off the variety of games played during the Harvest Moon Festival - hogtie-and-hang, kidney crusher, four limb filet, the heart stopper, pile-up, widowmaker's wash…

Each seemed more painful and worse than the last. Though, he wasn't sure what to expect. It was called the Pain Games, after all. 

Millie was nearly blue in the face before she stopped to take a breath. She huffed, gulping down a hearty helping of fresh air.

“... Aaaand that's how my sister got a scar on her eye.” She finally finished, exhaling quietly. “Beau's Wicked Bronco always gets me ‘n her. Darn horse was huge - took her jumpin’ off my shoulders to get on the saddle, only for her to get bucked off into a fence post!” Millie crossed her arms, sitting down. “I still say I shoulda got on there - I got a strong grip. Ain't no way that horse woulda kicked me off.”

“I don't doubt it.” Moxxie smiled, eliciting the same from Millie. She sighed quietly, reaching back over to her bowl.

“Well… can't let my food get cold. Or, any more cold.” She chuckled. “Thanks, Moxxie.”

“Of course,” He stepped towards the door.

“And not just for the food, either.” Millie smirked. “Was sure I was gonna sulk ‘n whine the rest o’ the night. Glad ya proved me wrong.”

“Anytime, Millie. You're letting me and Loona stay here - least I can lend you is an ear.”

“Careful - keep that up, ‘n I might use it more often.” She smiled. “And… that goes for me too, Mox. Seem like a good enough guy.” She spoke, stabbing her fork into the pasta. “You need to talk about Loona, or Blitzø', or anythin’ really, ya let me know.”

He smiled… he was glad she felt the same way. Moxxie wasn't used to it - someone he could trust, without worrying they were using him.

He… probably should've mentioned something about his dad by now. It would've made for a good time to bring him up, but…

He turned, walking out of her room. What was he supposed to say? “Hey, forgot to mention, but my dad is the boss of the Mafia here. Oh, and he's probably looking for me, so try not to attract too much attention.”

Yeah, that wouldn't get him very far. Loona needed a home - someplace stable, safe, and warm. If he told them, they might kick them out - he couldn't have her living out on the street again. She was just getting used to life as a normal kid, he wasn't gonna wrench that away. He couldn't.

Mox was afraid of what might happen if they were forced back out, and what his father might do to Loona if he found out he was taking care of her. So…

He needed to lie. To keep it a secret, at least for a little while longer. Maybe - maybe his dad would give up after a while? Mox wasn't exactly connected anymore, but maybe his dad would get distracted. When his mom left, he got a lot of new jobs - took up most of his time. Maybe it'd be the same with Moxxie.

He hoped it'd be the same with him. But… he couldn't worry. Not right now, anyways. Loona needed to eat before he went to work. Blitzø would be by to-

The door swung open, his boss stumbling through. Early, again.

“C'mon, Moxxie!” He spoke, a little slower than his usual fast-paced cadence. “We got work to do!”

—

“Ahhh…”

Blitzø sighed quietly, knocking back a glass of tequila. It was his… sixth? Mox had been trying to keep count, but between keeping an eye on him and Ms. Mayday, he couldn't be sure. Was enough for the bartender to leave the bottle with him.

“You like tequila, Mox?”

“Not particularly, sir.”

Blitzø gripped onto the neck of the bottle, his hand unsteady as he lifted it up. He tipped the bottle over, pouring a bit out onto the bar, before correcting the bottle's position.

“Tequila's my favorite. Drank this shit like water after I left the circus.” Blitzø smirked as he filled the glass, the bottle making an odd sound as the alcohol left the bottle. He could describe it as “glugging,” though thanks to the bottle's design, he suspected otherwise. Rusted chains and ripped pieces of cloth lined the thin neck of the glass, circling down to the bottom, where a thick piece of mangled foam sat, loosely attached to the bottom of the bottle. The cork - sitting beside Blitzø's glass - was an imp's head.

He guessed it was supposed to look, and sound, like someone drowning. Mox hated that he actually knew it was inaccurate. Drowning was… eerily silent. Chains and weights made it near impossible for a person to struggle or fight to the surface. Once they were in the water… it may as well have been over. A few bubbles escaped to the surface- the last remnants of any life from the person, before… silence. Stillness.

“I… should probably check on Ms. Mayday.”

He needed a minute. Mox shifted on the bar stool, grabbing onto his rifle as he turned. Blitzø's hand went around Moxxie's arm.

“She's fiiiine, Mox. Relaaax.” He spoke, his words slurring a bit. “Knowing her, she's probably fucking one of her groupies, or snorting some H-8. Probably both, between sets.”

Mox glanced at him, then towards the back of the club. Ms. Mayday had been hired for some sort of private event. Well, her and her crew. The entire VIP area had been cordoned off from the rest of the club. The owner, and Verosika, had made it expressly clear that they weren't supposed to dawdle in the VIP area - check in, make sure everything's safe, and fuck off back to the front. Mox had been trying to check in every half hour, but he kept getting delayed by Blitzø. Telling him to get him some food, check the limo - sometimes he just wanted him to sit beside him.

“Sir, I really think-”

“You worry too much, Moxxie. Relax.” He gulped down half his glass. “Done this a thousand times. She'll get more and more annoyed every visit.” Another quick pause, to knock back the remaining half of his glass. “And eventually, she'll throw a glass bottle at your head the next time you come in. Pour me another glass, would ya?”

Mox stared at him for a moment. He seemed pretty drunk already… he wasn't sure if-

“Mox, booze.” He tapped his finger on the bat. Moxxie quickly snapped from his indecisive spell, grabbing hold of the bottle and starting to pour. The chains clinked against the glass as the glugging sound filled his ears again. Couldn't they turn the damn music up in this club? At least hearing Verosika's mind-numbing music would take his mind off the bottle.

“Thank ya,” Blitzo grabbed onto the glass as soon as it was full, gulping down a mouthful of the tequila. “You drink, Mox?”

“No, not really, sir.”

He enjoyed the occasional glass of red wine every now and again, but aside from that… no. Mox did not have tolerance for alcohol. Hell, even the glass or two he drank on occasion had him feeling tipsy. Meanwhile, Blitzø had nearly gone through an entire bottle, and seemed to be at least semi-functional.

“My dad drank a lot, especially after my mom got sick.” He took another gulp from his glass. “Probably dead or dying by now, thank Christ.”

“I'm sorry, sir.”

“Hah,” He chuckled. “Don't be, Mox. Guy's a bastard, through and through. Sold me to some royal for the change in his pocket one time.”

That… was awful. Christ.

“I'm sor-”

“Don't apologize, ya do that too much, Moxxie.” Blitzø took another deep gulp from his glass, the thing nearly empty. “I've been independent since I was 15, didn't need him then. Not a wound, more like an annoying scab.”

He finished off the glass, grabbing onto the bottle and tipping it over. Again, the gurgling sound. He was tempted to smash the head of the bottle just to make it stop.

“Don't even know why I'm telling you this shit. Verosika doesn't really care when I bring it up, but… you're different.”

Not by much. Mox was more uncomfortable than anything, let alone reassuring or helping. He felt awkward - Blitzø may as well have been pouring his heart out to him, and all Mox wanted to do was find some escape from the conversation.

“What about you, Mox?”

Oh…

“W - What about me, sir?” He asked quietly, coyly. His heart was sinking into his stomach. Please don't let this be going where he thought it was going, please-

“Any fucked up stories from your childhood?”

Fuck.

“I, er…”

Blitzø wrapped his arm around Mox's shoulder, pulling him close. His nostrils were assaulted with the stench of the cheap booze, the smell of nicotine. Like his father's cigars.

“C'mon, we're friends. You gotta have something - grew up in the mob, for Christ's sake.”

Like a tidal wave, memories came flooding back. Nights where his father had him use “live targets” for practice. Shouting matches between his parents. Being slapped by his father for crying. His mother comforting him after being scolded. Fuck - too much-

“You two!”

His head snapped up, the voice thankfully snapping him from his mental nosedive. Unfortunately, the interruption wasn't much better.

He turned, seeing Verosika and a larger imp stomping towards them. The imp had a man over his shoulder - a smaller imp. Must not have been too strong, clearly.

“Where the fuck were you?! This fucking prick tried to jump me in there!” She smacked the sinner across the side, but it was clear he had been taken care of by the imp. Blood mixed with the imp's crimson red skin.

“I - I am sorry, Ms. Mayday. We- we were just… just, uh…”

Fuck… yeah, he had nothing. Should've checked when he wanted to - might have been able to intercept the guy before he got in.

Blitzø stared down at his glass for a moment, before sighing. He knocked back his glass, before turning back towards her.

“You okay?” He asked, not the slightest bit enthused or worried. Her eyes narrowed, a mix of anger and disgust flooding her face. Her lips curled downwards.

“Yeah, no thanks to you two! A groupie had to fucking take care of him!”

“Fuck…” Blitzø sighed. He scooted off the stool, stumbling a bit as he took a step towards them. “I'll take care of him, gimme the-”

“Are you fucking drunk?!” She screeched, leaning down towards him. Between her nose wrinkling at the smell of the tequila, her eyes darting to the bar, and his stumbling and nonchalant attitude, it wouldn't have been hard to deduce.

“You are, aren't you?! You fucking said you wouldn't drink on the job!”

He growled. “And you said you wouldn't snort shit before a show, but here we are. Now, gimme the body.”

Verosika's face turned a deep red. “You fucking asshole! I could've died, and you're busy getting shitfaced!”

“Oh, fucking please, Vee. You're surrounded by groupies 24/7, nothing was-”

“You don't even fucking care!” She shouted, her voice warbling. Her brow relaxed, eyes becoming glassy and wet. Shit… she turned upwards.

“Vee… please, I do-”

“Fuck off.” She hissed quietly, turning away from them. “You two, get the fuck out. Don't fucking call me, Blitzø.”

“Verosika, don't be like-”

Before Blitzø even had a chance to try and plead their case, she turned, walking away, with the larger imp behind her. Blitzø stared at her fleeting figure, before a quiet, long breath escaped him. He reached into his pocket, slapping a few bills onto the bar before grabbing the bottle.

“... let's go, Mox. You drive.”

He didn't need to be told twice.

—

The trip had been quiet. Eerily so. Typically, Blitzø incessantly chatted with Moxxie - in between cursing out slow drivers and gulping down his coffee. Yet, now, he was quiet. The only noise that filled the air was the engine, and his occasional gulp from the bottle. Thankfully, with his lips around the opening, the gurgling sound had been silence. Didn't bother him nearly as much.

The same could not be said for the silence. Whereas before, he felt awkward with how personal Blitzø was being… now, he felt awkward about just how silent he was.  

Another few moments passed before Mox couldn't bear the silence any longer.

“So… uh, you-”

“This isn't gonna work.” He spoke, finally, before taking a gulp from the bottle. “I don't think she's gonna stick around this time. Dunno if I should.”

Ah… well, it was back to uncomfortably awkward. Better than painfully awkward, he supposed. Though, that had created a new problem.

Mox knew absolutely nothing about healthy relationships.

“What do you, uh… mean, sir?”

He sighed, leaning towards the window. “We've broken up and gotten back together 8 times in the past year. Usually the same way. One of us will fuck up - usually me - the other will get pissed, leave. Few days later, we come back and apologize, then the whole thing starts over again.”

That didn't sound good… not at all.

“Oh…”

“Yeah. Oh.” Blitzø tilted his head back, pouring the remaining tequila in the bottle. He rolled down his window, tossing the bottle out. “It's been a shit night, Mox. I need to crash.”

“Loona's probably still awake… maybe I can grab a blanket from your room, let her sleep on the couch with me on the floor-”

“Naw, no.” Blitzø swatted away his offer. “You got a kid, man, can't let anyone treat her bad. She needs a bed, not some fuckin’ couch. Fuck everyone else who says otherwise.”

“But -”

“Nope, no discussion, Mox.” Blitzø wagged his finger at him. “I'm fine crashing on the couch.”

Well…

“If you're sure, sir.”

“Positive, Mox.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. Mox hated to admit it, but he was glad Blitzø had offered to take the couch. He was right - Moxxie knew, she had to come first. She needed a good night's rest, every night. That would've been hard to come by on a couch.

Finally, he turned onto their street. The engine sputtered as he pulled in between a pair of dark cars on the street. It was odd… maybe some new people had moved in? Mox knew there were vacancies in the apartment, perhaps some new tenants opted to move in. Still, odd he hadn't noticed when they left-

“Mox, c'mon.”

Blitzø reached over, turning the car off and pulling out his keys. Mox grabbed onto his rifle, slinging over his shoulder and opening the door. He hopped out, walking around the front of the van and towards the apartment. Blitzø stumbled towards the door, struggling to climb up the stairs to the main lobby.

Once they were inside, the pair walked up the stairs, the wooden panels creaking beneath their weight.

“Ugh… thank fuck… you have no idea how hard it is trying to get some sleep with Verosika.”

Blitzø stepped up onto the first floor, before turning and stepping up the second stairway up. The apartments were quiet. Usually, there was at least some sort of noise - a TV playing some program too loudly, a jerk listening to music or vacuuming in the middle of the night. But now… nothing.

They headed up to the second floor. Blitzø sighed quietly as he reached into his pocket, pulling out his keys.

“Ooof… don't even think I have the energy to eat. Fuck me, Mox.” He turned the key, the lock clicking open. Blitzø turned the knob.

“Next time I get shitfaced at work, at least remind me to have some nachos before -”

Blitzø pushed the door open, his eyes snapping wide as he stared into the apartment.

“Sir? What is-”

A gun pointed at Blitzø face - a revolver.  

“Oh… fuckin’ come on.” He spoke, sounding more annoyed than anything. 

“Get in,” A gruff voice spoke. “Both of ya.”

Fuck… fuck… Loona, and Millie, they were-

“He ain't gonna ask twice.”

… Fuck.

No, no - it-it was still too soon. He wouldn't have found him, it had only been a few months-

A pair of arms reached out, grabbing him and Blitzø. They were dragged in, tossed in front of the couch, while the door slammed behind them. Moxxie felt like he could barely breathe, his heart racing. His head turned upwards.

“About time I found ya. Was gettin’ a little worried, son.”

Chapter Text

“So… where ya been?”

Everything was… fuzzy. Like a bunch of spiders had crawled inside his head and spun their webs across the cogs of his brain, clogging up the gears. His eyes locked forwards, towards the couch. Five blurry, black blobs stood in front of it, with an extra, red one sitting on it.

“Moxxie… ya ain't still having them episodes, are ya?”

The voice. His father's voice. He could barely hear it over the ringing in his ears, the sound of his own heartbeat. A red blur sat to his right. A gray one had taken his gun… he couldn't focus.

“Ugh… Ale,”

A quick snap. The gray blur walked over to him. He slapped him across the face.

“Hey, c'mon now-”

Moxxie caught himself before he fell. He had been smacked back to his senses - this was real. His father had found him. Blitzø made to stand, only to find another pair of guns in his face.

“Dunno you, don't want to. Unless ya want me to paint this place with ya brains, ya better shaddup.”

“Please,” Blitzø rolled his eyes. “If you wanted me dead, you wouldn't have waited. Far as I'm concerned, you're a-”

“Blitzø!” Moxxie shouted, interrupting him before he could insult his father. “Shut up.” He hissed as he turned towards him, staring him down. Blitzø had a fat mouth, even when he was trying to help. His incessant chattering and smart mouth would do him no favors with his dad. He had already dragged him into this mess, he needed to make sure he came out of it in one piece.

“Mox-” “Don't say another word,” He turned back up towards his father. “Dad - look, whatever happened-”

“Don't play coy with me, son.” His dad's eyes narrowed, gazing at Moxxie with nothing but malice, hatred. “I know ya got caught in that job, but Thurman got outta there with the cash. Ain't seen him since the job… ya wouldn't happen to know anythin’ about that, would ya?”

Fuck… Chaz - he split town.

Of course he did. After he left him, the boss’ son, to be caught by the cops, his dad would have killed him, and that was if he was lucky.  

Still, Mox wouldn't have expected him to stick around, face the music. He just hoped he wouldn't have been dumb enough to leave without giving the family their fair share. One last way Chaz had fucked him over.

No, Moxxie and his friends. Fuck, Millie… Loona!

“The- The other two here, are they-”

“Answer the question, son.”

Fuck, they knew. The inflection of his voice - his cold stare. They had to know they were here.

“I-I-I don't know, D-Dad. I ha- haven't seen him since-”

Another slap, across the other cheek. Ale stared down at him, cold. Emotionless, like a robot. Ready to carry out his master's wishes.

“You're lyin’.” He stood up, reaching into his pocket. “You two were partners, in more ways than one.”

Crimson tossed down a few photographs- photographs of him and Chaz. Together. One of their date to a fancy restaurant in Wrath, another in Chaz's apartment, pointed towards the pair of them in bed… some more… explicit ones.

Oh, Christ… Mox wanted to throw up. How long had he known what a fucking freak he was? He- He thought he had been careful. Fuck - he was shaking. Trembling.

“I always knew you were a disgrace, just didn't know how much.”

“D-Dad, it - it isn't-”

He grabbed his horn, yanking his head upwards. “Coulda at least pitched, Mox. Still would've been a fuckin’ disappointment, but ya woulda kept a shred of your dignity.”

Tears. He could feel them filling his eyes. Quiet sniffles escaped him, followed by a choked sob. He deserved this. Every humiliating bit of this. He was a disgrace, a disappointment. A treacherous, selfish little snake, who didn't care about anyone or anything but himself. Maybe his dad would do Hell a favor and off him-

“Not to mention, yer ‘raisin’ a mutt.”

His eyes snapped up at the word.

“Y- You know about-” 

“Yeah, yeah, we get the message, Mr. Mob Boss. Mox is a fuckup, and you fucking hate him.”

Blitzø turned upwards, back towards Crimson. Mox's dad stared down at him, eyes narrow.  

“Now, get to the fuckin’ point. I'm getting bored.”

He pulled on Moxxie's horn, twisting his neck painfully, before he pushed him back down. His father stepped in front of him, motioning towards Ale. He nodded at a pair of his men, heading towards the back - towards Millie's room.  

“Yer boyfriend split town without payin’ the cash he owed us. We needed that cash, Mox. And, seein’ how Thurman isn’t around… you gotta assume the responsibility for this mess.”

Blitzø hissed. “Blah, blah, blah, just tell us what you want.”

Ale walked over to him, drawing back an open palm, before his father held up a hand. He quickly retreated. Mox couldn't really… he wasn't quite sure what to do. What to say.

“He owes us fifty grand.”

“Fifty-” Blitzø smirked, a quiet chuckle escaping him. “Does he look like he has fifty Gs laying around here somewhere? You'd have better luck with the old crone down stairs - at least she actually has a bank account.”

Mox's ears were ringing. Fifty grand… he - he had never seen a penny of that money - the money he had risked his life, and Loona’s safety, for. And he was being made to pay back every last cent?

“Hm… maybe yer right.” Crimson conceded, before motioning Ale forwards. The shark pulled a revolver from his waistband, pointing it at Blitzø's head. “Maybe we oughta just cut ya loose here and now - tie up some loose ends.“

That made Moxxie wake up.

“D-Dad - no, h-he-”

“Now, I didn't say that.”

Blitzø looked… almost natural. Like an animal in his habitat - negotiating with a gun in his face.

“You're a smart guy, you know he isn't gonna be able to pay you back here and now. Offing us isn't gonna do any good, either. You're 50k in the hole, only thing that's gonna fill that hole is cash.”

Crimson took a step towards him.

“Or you two, plus the woman ‘n the mutt?”

Did he call Loona a-

He wasn't talking about Loona. No, he was not going to talk about her like that.

“She's not-”

“Not interested in becoming worm food.” Blitzø interrupted Moxxie. “But, what am I sayin’, you're smarter than throwing away a golden opportunity like this.”

Crimson stared at him, as he approached. “I'm listenin’.”

“Give Mox a month to scrounge up the cash. You've already waited, what… two, three now? You can manage one more month.” Blitzø took another step closer, his hands still raised. “50 grand, plus interest, and you're square?”

Crimson stared at him for a moment, his eyes narrowing. Mox wasn't sure - it was the same look he got when he was thinking over something. Like whether to drown a guy or shoot him.

“How would I know ya ain't tryin’ ta buy yourselves some time? Month's plenty of time to disappear.” Crimson glanced towards Mox, turning towards him. “Especially now that my son has decided to take in a mutt for a pet.”

Again… he could feel a pit forming in his stomach. Not bottomless, nor hollow - filled with anger. Bubbling and boiling. He had to keep control. 

“Don't… call her that.” He spoke, his speech broken, uneven. It was hard to stand up to him, even if he was talking about Loona.

“What did you say?” Crimson took a step closer to him, frowning. “Ya takin’ the side of a mutt over your father?”

Moxxie didn't break his gaze. Didn't shy away. Yes, he was taking her side over his. She was more of a family to him than he had been. 

“Look, you two can figure this shit out later, back to biz.”

Crimson turned back towards Blitzø, his eyes darting between him and Mox. Moxxie didn't break his gaze. He was afraid of his father, but he wasn't afraid of defending Loona. 

“You need some assurance - I get that, you're a business man. How about a little, uh…” Blitzø's paused for a moment, thinking. He huffed quietly, a bit frustrated. “Down payment. Mox, you got a couple thousand hidden, right?”

What- how did he-

Ugh… didn't matter how. Moxxie knew what he was doing. Saving his dumb ass.

“Yes…” He sighed. “Under the couch.”

Alessio knelt down pawing beneath the couch blindly. He scraped against the floor, before turning his arm upwards, checking the underside of the couch. Finally, Moxxie heard the tape holding it to the couch rip off, Ale pulling back an envelope of cash, who handed it off to Crimson.

“Millie told me,” Blitzø leaned towards him, before turning back towards Crimson. “That's all the cash we have saved up. We don't exactly have much.”

His father flicked through the envelope, smirking as he counted the cash. That was all he cared about. Not about Moxxie, or what he was doing to him. Just the money and his stupid mafia.  Three grand, he had saved up.  All taken away in an instant

“So… we got a deal?”

His father stared him down, eyes narrowing as Blitzø extended a hand. He glanced down to his hand, then back up, before smirking. 

“Deal. Fifty grand, with interest, next month.”

Moxxie breathed a quiet sigh of relief… they had time. His chest was still tight, and he could still hear ringing in his ears, but…

“Great. Now… think you have our other housemates.”

“Ah… right.”

Crimson waved his men away, towards Millie’s room. The door creaked open, followed by the sounds of growls and snarls. They hoisted Millie out - chains wrapped around her. Her arms and legs were bound together behind her back, steel chains clinking and clicking together as she wiggled and squirmed. She kicked and pulled, turned and twisted as they sat her down on the floor in front of Moxxie, snarls and vicious growls escaping her. The men dropped her on her shoulder, before jumping back. She twisted around, trying to bite or headbutt any of them - his dad and Ale in particular. Millie only managed to swipe at the air. Moving was damn-near impossible with the amount of chain wrapped around her. The fact she was able to squirm at all was impressive.

“Oh, ‘n don't worry son, ya mutt’s fine.”

“Stop calling her-”

Another noise - this time, a rattle. The other man that had walked in finally came back out. A… a cage in his…

Oh, fuck no.

Fuck. No.

A ringing filled his ears, his chest tightening. He couldn't breathe.

“You put her in a fucking cage?!” Blitzø spat, standing up. “The fuck?! She's a child!”

Loona, growling between whimpers, was paraded out in front of him. She had crawled back to one corner, tail hiked up and claws out. They put a muzzle on her. A fucking muzzle.

His ears were ringing, his heart racing. But this time was different. He knew where he was. Who he was. His hands were shaking, nails digging into his palms.

“She's a mutt,” Crimson spoke, his voice muffled. “I didn't put her down like-”

Moxxie leapt forwards, growling and snarling. He swung at Crimson, only to get caught by Ale, his arm wrapping under his arms and holding him in place. His hands swiped at his father, frying to punch, scratch, hit, slap, smack - anything!

“She's my daughter! I'll fucking kill you all!” He dug his heels into the floor, pushing against the larger shark. Mox was blind - white hot rage taking over, pure and unbridled. His vision blurred, chest thumping loudly. “Nobody treats her like that! I'll rip your fucking guts out! I'll gouge your eyes out! I'll-”

The wooden butt of a gun smacked against the back of his head. He stumbled forwards a bit, still swinging wildly.

“Kill you… gonna kill you al-”

Another one, harder. He tumbled downwards, in front of Loona’s cage. Ale's foot pressed into his back as Crimson stood up. Moxxie tried to press up, but with the shark being much larger than him, and the room spinning around him thanks to the combination of the blow to the back of his head and his rage. He snorted and huffed, grunting quietly as he clawed into the floor. His arms shook, glaring at Crimson, wanting to bury a knife in his chest for what he did.

“See ya in a month, son.” Crimson spoke, stepping out of the apartment, flanked by the other five men.  

Ale pressed his head against the floor, stepping off him as he walked towards the door. Moxxie huffed and grunted… he wanted to chase after them -

No, no.

His head turned back towards the cage. Loona, she needed to get out.

“Loona,”

He tried to stand, but only managed to stumble towards the cage. The world was spinning around him. His fingers fumbled with the latch holding it shut, pulling it up before sliding it out of the lock. Her whimpers were only getting louder.

“It- It's okay, they're gone, I promise. Let me get that off you.” He spoke quietly. Mox could hear the chains around Millie clicking together, seeing Blitzø working on getting her out of them from the corner of his eye.  

“Get this fuckin’ shit off'a me!” He heard Millie bark, the chains rattling as Blitzø pulled on the center of the chain, trying to snap the link.

“I'm trying! Stop squirming!"

Loona slowly crawled towards him. Blood stained her lips. If they hurt her-

No, no, needed to focus. No more anger, not right now. His fingers found the clasp holding it to the back of her head, quickly undoing it. He pulled it off of her, carefully grabbing her arms and scooping her out of the cage. Her form was trembling, the poor girl shaking.

“M-Muh - Moxxie,” She quietly sobbed. “I-I th-thought they had- that they were gonna -”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay.”

He pulled her in for a hug, his hand rubbing her back.  

“I'm so sorry…” He spoke quietly, rocking back and forth. Loona's tears dampened his coat, quiet sobs leaking out of her. “Did they hurt you?”

“Nuh-no.” She shivered out the answer. The blood probably belonged to one of his father’ guys. Good.

“Okay… okay, it's alright…” He spoke quietly, his hand finding the back of her head. “Keep breathing. You're gonna be okay.” His arms wrapped tightly around her, watching the door. Blitzø gave the chain around Millie a hard pull, one of the links snapping. Quickly, a few more creaked and broke, before she grunted, snapping free. She stood up, huffing. Her eyes were glowing - yellow pools of hatred. She breathed loudly - in her nose, out her mouth. Her eyes darted downwards, towards Mox and Loona, then back to Blitzø

“Millie…” Blitzø took a step forwards, stepping between the two. “Calm down, it's over-”

“The fuck it is!” She snapped. “I'm gettin’ my axe, those fuckers-”

“No,” Mox snapped back. “No, they're done. It was a message - they’re not-”

Her head snapped around, turning back towards him, pupils like black knives, pointed at him. “Message, huh? For you, the fuckin’ mob boss’s son.” She took a step forward. “Didn't think ta mention that?”

He kept his eyes locked on hers, hands still idly working to calm the panicked, scared hellhound in his arms.

“Mmhm, they told us. Got anythin’ to say?”

“Mox…” Blitzø stared down at him. He looked more… disappointed, than angry. Still some anger, to be sure.

“I - I…” He took a quiet breath. “I meant to tell, but-”

“But what? Slip yer mind, that you stole money from the mob?” She hissed, her nails digging into her palms. “Or that your fuckin’ dad was a mob boss?”

“I didn't steal-”

“It doesn't matter!” 

“Millie…” Blitzø spoke, his voice low. “Relax, everything's gonna -”

“It ain't gonna be okay!” She huffed, turning. “We are fucked, B! Ain't like any of us has any cash, and I wouldn't trust his ass to pay him anyways!”

Millie turned, walking back towards her room. Blitzø took a step behind her, following her around the couch.

“Mills, wait - we gotta talk-”

“Ain't nothin’ to talk about. I need ta sharpen my axe.” She huffed. “I'll probably need it ‘fore the night's over…”

The door to her room slammed shut. Blitzø sighed quietly.

“... Dammit, Moxxie.”

He stepped back over to the couch, leaning over it. 

“You've royally fucked us, you know that, right?”

Moxxie nodded… he wasn't going to lie. This was one of the worst nights of his life. He had not only potentially ruined his friendships, but their lives too. Mox called Chaz selfish, but at least he only ruined one life in the process of getting rich. Moxxie had ruined four, including his own and Loona's.

“I'm sorry.” He spoke quietly. Blitzø stared at him, before turning back towards the door. “I… didn't think he would find me so fast. I - I meant to tell you, honestly.”

“Sure,” Blitzø spat, turning his head upwards. Even he didn't believe him. He turned, stuffing his hand into his pocket. “I gotta make some phone calls, see if I can find us a way outta this shitshow. You can stay here… for now, anyways.”

Without another word, he headed out the door, pulling it shut behind him. Mox could hear Millie in the other room - rummaging about… probably trying to find her axe so she could bury it in his head. He huffed quietly, shoulders dropping. His arms kept Loona against his chest, still feeling her shivering. Hold yourself together, Mox. For her.

“I'm so sorry…” He spoke quietly, head resting against the couch. It was pounding - throbbing thanks to the pair of blows between his horns.

“A-are we safe?” Loona spoke quietly between hitched breaths.  She was trembling - terrified.

“We're safe, promise.” Mox spoke… a bit more confidently than he should've been. He didn't truly know… his father had found them. His father knew about Loona. How much she mattered to him.

He… had called her his daughter. That's what she was, wasn't she? Not officially, maybe… but, he cared for her like one. The sight of her being in danger or hurt put him into a blind frenzy, almost literally foaming at the mouth.

So… he guessed there was one thing he was confident about.

“No one's gonna hurt you, Loona. I promise.”

They'd have to get through him first.

Chapter Text

“C'mon, c'mon…”

Blitzø paced in front of the door. Moxxie had never seen him so nervous before. He had almost worked a groove into the floor from his constant walking, his fingers fiddling with the pendant beneath his chin. Clenching it tightly, rubbing around the surface, simply holding it… This wasn't good. Blitzø was never nervous.

Loona had fallen asleep in his arms a few hours ago. Neither of them had worked up the nerve to actually move from their spot in front of the door. Loona, he suspected, was scared someone might come back and take her to the pound. Moxxie, on the other hand, was more determined than anything. He had managed to shift a few inches across the front of the couch, finding his rifle and propping it up against the arm. A round was in the chamber, ready to blow a hole in one of his father's men if they decided to try something.

“Sup, bitch?! I'm super busy right now, leave it at the-”

“Fuckin’-”

Blitzø pulled his arm back, preparing to spike it into the floor. He managed to stop himself hallway through his swing, before the phone left his hand

“Okay… okay, can't rely on Verosika…” He took a breath, sliding his phone back into his pocket. One hand went to his pendent, while the other went into his pocket.

“Guy's probably watching Wrath… definitely has eyes on us… no way we'd be able to get off the ring…” He muttered quietly, pacing back and forth in front of the door. His hand shifted out of his pocket.  

“C'mon, think…” He pinched the skin between his horns, his pacing only getting quicker. Blitzø huffed, stopping. He walked past the couch, back towards his room. A few moments later, he came back, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter with him. Where had he hidden those?  

Didn't matter right now. He planted himself on the couch, beside Moxxie. Blitzø flicked the pack open.

“You smoke, Mox?” Blitzø asked, pulling out a cigarette. He shook his head - Mox hated the smell of cigarette smoke. It always reminded him of the cigars his dad used to smoke after a business deal… or when he was stressed.

“You sure?”

“I hate cigarettes.” He spoke again, turning up towards him. Blitzø sighed.

“They help me focus.” Blitzø pinched the filter between his lips, sparking his lighter. The flame licked the tip of the cigarette, smoke wafting from the end. His lips wrapped around the filter, inhaling deeply. 

“Fuck…” He breathed out a puff of smoke, pulling out his phone. “Any ideas, Mox?”

“No, sir.”

Blitzø took another drag, smoke slipping out between his lips. His hand slid back into his pocket. “Thought so… welp…”

Blitzø leaned forwards, taking another deep inhale before pulling the cigarette from his mouth.

“Heist is too risky, none of us have any savings, your dad's got eyes on us, and even if he didn't, we don't have enough cash to get us all to a different ring. Verosika isn't answering my calls, so she's not gonna help.”

Blitzø foot bounced, the lit end of the cigarette bouncing in his fingers.

“Well? Open to ideas here, Mox.”

“Uhm… uh…”

He stuttered for a moment… he had really put them in a shitty situation. Blitzø had listed off everything he could think of… he doubted any of the people he knew about in the mob would be willing to help them. Mox didn't really make friends then… just associates.

Blitzø had already covered the most straightforward solutions to their problems. As straightforward as one could be when it came to getting 50 grand in one month, anyways.

Then… that left one option.

“I could… go back.”

Blitzø's head snapped back towards Moxxie's, staring him in the eyes. “Are you kidding?”

Mox stared at him. He wished it could be a joke- he wished he could say something that would solve this issue…

But, there was nothing. This was the only option.

“Christ, Moxxie!” Blitzø stood up. “Those assholes were fine with letting you rot in jail! They're only pissed ‘cause they didn't get their cut! Have some self-respect!”

“I'm only thinking rationally-”

“Fuck rational, Mox!” He turned down towards him, the taller imp's shadow enveloping Mox's small frame. “Where was the guy who was ready to rip some fucker's head off when he found out they put his daughter in a cage?! Get pissed!”

“That was…”

No, it wasn't a mistake. Moxxie was more certain about doing that than most anything else in his life.

“There's no choice, Blitzø!”

Blitzø huffed, pressing the cigarette back into his mouth. He took a long drag from it. It gave Moxxie an opportunity to speak.

“Why do you even care? I ruined yours and Millie's chances here.”

“Because, you're making a mistake.” Blitzø turned back towards him. “You're being an idiot, and I know you're not an idiot. You're a nervous wreck, a shitty shot, hesitant, but you're not an idiot. So, you tell me, why do you care about your jackass father and his men?”

Mox huffed. “You don't know what he's capable of. I'm trying to help you-”

“How is running away helping?!”

“I'm not running away, I'm-”

The floorboards squeaked, something metal dragging against the hardwood behind him. He turned around.

Millie. Her hair was tied back, eyes glowing a bright yellow. She dragged her axe behind it - the shaft was as tall as her body, and the bladed ends were as big as her head - but, she dragged it like it was nothing.

“Yer bein’ a damned coward.” She spat, stopping beside the couch. Blitzø tentatively stepped towards her.

“Mills… I get you're pissed, but-”

“Oh, I'm fuckin’ livid.” She hissed, black daggers stabbing holes into Moxxie. Her eyes narrowed towards him, fingers gripping tightly onto the wrapping around the shaft of the axe. She had changed clothes - into a small, short-sleeved shirt, and a pair of jeans. He gulped, his throat feeling dry. Was she always this scary?

“I'm… er… I'm trying to-”

She lifted up the axe, holding it up for just a moment. The imp was staring a hole into him - like she was trying to decide whether to just decapitate him or leave him as an unrecognizable pile of gore on the floor.

“... Not gonna use ‘er on ya. Not yet, anyways.”

She pressed the head of the axe into the floor beside the couch. Mox breathed, for the first time in minutes. Blitzø seemed to be in the same boat - his shoulders visibly lowered, a large puff of smoke escaping him.

“More pissed at yer dad than anythin’. Pissed at you for not sayin’ anythin’... but not enough to kill ya right now.”

“Not right now… can work with that, I guess.”

“Gonna have to.” 

She stepped past her axe, sitting down on the couch. Her eyes wandered downwards, towards him.

“She okay?” Millie motioned towards Loona. Deep bags had worked their way beneath her eyes- the stress must have done a number on her.

“I think so… physically, anyways.” 

Blitzø knelt down, staring at the hellhound pup. “She need anything? I can run downstairs, try to pick up some food.”

“No, no… she just… needs to rest.”

Blitzø stared down at him, then back up to Millie. He huffed, taking a good drag from his cigarette. 

“I can't just sit… Mills, you aren't gonna kill him while I'm out, are you?”

“D'pends on him.”

Moxxie had hoped for a more forward response… but that'd have to do for now. Ugh, the stress was killing him. That and the throbbing pain on the back of his head.

“Great. I'm gonna go see if I can find Vee, see if she can help us out.”

“But, you already tried calling her -”

“Calling her, not talking to her.” Blitzø reached down, retrieving his coat from the floor. He stuffed his cigarette between his lips, pulling his arm through one sleeve. “You two crazy kids try not to kill each other before I get back. I wanna at least see the carnage if you're gonna mess up the apartment.”

He stuffed his arm into the other sleeve, grabbing onto the door knob. “Oh, and… y'know, take care of the actual kid.”

Yeah, he didn't need to worry about that. Blitzø stepped out, shutting the door behind him. Then…

Silence. Nearly complete silence. The only thing Moxxie could really hear was Loona's soft breaths. In… and out. He could feel her chest rising and falling against his stomach, her head occasionally rubbing against his shoulder.

His hand moved slowly up her back, finding its place on the top of her head, between her ears. Loona shifted, her tail flicking agsinst the floor. 

“I hope she's okay…” Moxxie spoke quietly. “I'm… sorry. I didn't mean to-”

“Why?”

Why was he sorry? He had plenty of reason to be. His dad had bust in, chained her up, pointed guns in their faces, put Loona in a cage… there was plenty he needed to apologize for.

“Well for… you know, everything that-”

“Not that,” She huffed, shifting towards him. “Why didn't you say anythin’?”

Moxxie turned away from her, back down towards Loona. His fingers slid down to the back of her head.

“I was… afraid you'd kick us out if you found out who I really was.” He spoke, his fingers combing her hair. “Loona needed a place to stay. I couldn't risk losing our one chance at having shelter, even if that meant lying to you two. It isn't an excuse, but I hope you can understand that she needed to come first.”

Millie paused for a moment, staring at him. Like she was trying to see if he was telling the truth. He was, of course, but-

“... bullshit.”

“I'm sorry, what-”

“That ain't the real reason.”

Yes, it was. He was afraid.

“It is-”

“Sure, might've been the first few weeks you were here, but it's been months, Mox.” She leaned forwards, her elbows pressing into her knees. “You could've told us after the first week. Hell, ya probably wanted to… but somethin’ held ya back, and it wasn't the idea that we were gonna kick y'all out. I need the real reason.”

That was the real reason.

Wasn't it? He was afraid they'd kick them out, yeah. Sure, he was… maybe still is, a bad person. But…

…

No. No, bury it. Deny, deny, deny. He had to go back to work for his father. Moxxie couldn't do that if he was an emotional wreck.

“That - that is the real reason.” He spoke, absolutely unconvincingly. His eyes were already stinging, images of the old man he had assaulted the first night he met Loona flooding back into his mind. Chazwick and Ale, helping him throw a thrashing man into a lake, a weight tied around his torso.

“Moxxie…” She huffed. “Ya need to be honest.”

Her voice was warbled, muffled. The sounds of screams and shouts filling his ears. Flashes of a hellhound, staring up at the sky with a bullet hole between his eyes. The gun in his hands, barrel still warm. Second kill.  

He didn't want to hurt him. It just - just happened. He swore - he didn't want to be involved in expanding their territory. But - but his father insisted. And Moxxie listened. He t-tried to aim for his shoulder, but he swiped at the gun and turned the shot into a fatal one.

“Mox?”

Grabbing an imp's horns and smashing his f-face into the counter. Watching his father clip fingertips off that same imp with a rusty pair of garden shears. He watched it all. Everything. And did nothing. He participated in some of it, too.  

His dad would've beaten him if he didn't. Alessio, Butch, and the rest would've joined in. He d-didn't have a choice. And he hated himself for choosing to go along with it. To ruin so many lives. Kill so many people.

“Moxxie?”

Moxxie was deplorable. An awful wretch. How did he deserve to have a good life, when he had ruined so many others. What kind of a f-father would he be, when he had severed families from their fathers with a single bullet. Why did he deserve to be happy, when-

“Moxxie.”

He felt a firm grip on his shoulder, dragging him back down to the ground. His heart was thumping in his chest, breaths quick and short, his hands wrapped tightly around Loona. Millie stood in front of him - she had moved from the couch in the eons he had spent reviewing just how horrible he was.

“You okay?”

Moxxie blinked, feeling a hot tear roll down his cheek. His lips quivered, before he spoke.

“I was ashamed of myself.” He said. Finally, he spoke it out into the world. Not to himself, nor in a self-deprecating manner. Honestly, truthfully, he had said it.

“You and Blitzø had no idea about me. About my past. I didn't want you to know- to find out everything.”

Millie's shoulders dropped, her hand's firm grip becoming soft. She knelt down, staring him in the eyes.

“Why?”

“I'm not a good person.” Moxxie spoke, another tear rolling down his cheek. His throat felt tight, his chest feeling strange. Like his heart was being gripped tightly. “I've blackmailed, extorted, murdered, and more. I was a fucking freak, who didn't care about anyone or anything except my father's approval. The things I did to make him proud…”

He turned downward, taking a shuddering, quiet breath. His fingers pressed against Loona's back, hugging her closer.

“But… when I met Loona, she changed me. Made me a better person. And, when Blitzø broke me out of jail, and you brought me here… I thought it would be a fresh start. A chance to bury the past and move on.”

He turned back up towards her, tears flowing freely from his eyes. They were dripping down his chin, landing on his chest, just above Loona.

“Instead, I dragged all of you into this. I'm so sorry.”

Millie stared down at him. Her gaze had softened. The black daggers had turned into pools of sympathy, turned towards Moxxie. She scooted down the couch, sitting down beside him.

“I understand.” She reached over, wiping a tear from his cheek. “You gotta cut yourself some slack, Mox.”

“Why?” 

Why should he be easy on himself, when he had never afforded that same luxury to others? People just trying to survive in this messed-up ring they lived in.  

“Because, you ain't the same person anymore. The Moxxie I know is kind, sweet, sensitive, and a good father, tryin’ his best to raise his girl right.” Her eyes darted down to Loona, then back to him. “You took ‘er in off the streets, kept her safe, warm, and fed, when everyone else would've ignored her.”

Moxxie's head turned back down towards her.

“I don't d-deserve her.”

He didn't. Not one bit. She made him happy - very happy, and proud. Loona was a great kid, and was a bright light in a sea of darkness for him. How did he, as cruel and evil as he was, deserve her?

“But she deserves you, Moxxie. Not who you were - who you are. You gotta let go of everythin’ you were.”

A shudder escaped him. Air was getting harder to come by.

“I - I can't,” He huffed, his voice trembling. “It's t-too much. I'll fall apart. She needs me.”

Mox didn't talk about it. He couldn't. Life never afforded him the opportunity. In the mob, any weakness was sniffed out and exploited. If you were weak, or sensitive, or “crazy,” you didn't go far. Even before then, when his mom left, he didn't share anything with his dad. It would've just earned him a slap across the face and a stern talking-to about sucking it up and being tough.

He had literal years of emotion built up. Anger, sadness, hatred, disgust, self-loathing…

It was too much. Too much to think about, let alone digest.

Millie stared at him for a moment, like she was trying to figure out their next move. She glanced down to Loona.

“Hand ‘er over.”

“W- what - no.” Mox held her tighter, pressing her against his chest. If he let go… 

She was the one thing keeping him together. Without her…

The floodgates would open. He'd be a mess.

“Moxxie, yer shaking.”

He was?

His head turned downwards. Mox's hands, arms, and legs were shaking. It was starting to move up his neck, along with a thick glob of bile. His body was fighting to keep his emotion buried - a reaction thanks to years of bottling it up.

“I - I'm okay, she needs-”

“You're not okay.” Millie spoke, sternly. “Give her to me, Mox. She isn't gonna wake up anytime soon.”

“But - but w-what if she does?” He spoke, taking a sharp breath. His voice was starting to tremble, speech becoming harder. Millie was turning into a red blur in front of him, tears filling his eyes. He tried to swallow the growing lump in his throat, suppress whatever was happening. It wasn't working.

“Then she'll wake up in Blitzø's room with me. Promise, we'll be okay.” Millie leaned forwards. Small, quiet whines escaped Moxxie - between breaths. The dam had nearly broken. His trembling had only gotten worse, spreading to his stomach and chest.

“She doesn't need to see you like this,” She spoke gently, placing her hand on his shoulder. “And I know you don't want her seein’ you like this.”

His ears were starting to ring. This was bad. It was coming- he couldn't stop it anymore. He just couldn't. 

“O-oh-okay,” He shuddered out between fast, uneven breaths. He lifted Loona up, as gently as he could. Millie scooped her up, slowly. She stood up, holding the hellhound in her arms.

“... Let it all out, Mox. You'll be okay.”

He heard her footsteps fleeing away from him, then a door shutting. Something changed, as soon as Loona was out of sight.

Shuddering breaths went in and came out of him, tears flowing freely. He wanted to scream - he needed to.

His claws dug into the couch cushion, tugging it off and pressing it against his chest. Moxxie drew back, taking a deep breath.

He pushed his mouth against the cushion and screamed. It was more like a cry - a wail of anguish, anger, sadness…

The scream was muffled, but Moxxie felt like his entire body was going into it. His chest contracted, arms and legs squeezing around the cushion as he wailed. Mox's tail coiled around his leg, the spaded tip rubbing against his calf - something he did when he was a child to soothe himself when is parents fought. Comfort was something he desperately needed right now.

He was so angry, and sad, and scared.

Anger at his father. How he had insulted Loona, and scared her so badly. His willingness to rob his own son blind, and to force him into making an impossible choice. How he had treated him like shit. Hit him when he was a kid, just to prove a point and make him scared. Anger at himself, for being so selfish. For ruining Millie's and Blitzø's lives, and putting Loona in danger. All because he was in denial about his past and himself.

Sad at so many things. The fact he had failed to protect Loona. That he had failed Millie and Blitzø, and dragged him into this mess. How Chaz had abandoned him during the bank heist, and had left him to take the fall, not once, but twice. His mother's absence, and how the pain he felt never really went away.

Scared of the future. If he failed to protect Loona again. What his father would do if he didn't pay in time. How Blitzø and Millie thought of him, now that they knew who he was. If he'd even survive to see his next birthday.  

All of it kept coming, in tidal waves of emotion, each buried deeper than the last, and each growing more intense. He could feel his tears soaking into the cushion, his nails digging into the fabric. His tail coiled higher up his leg. The world shifted around him, feeling himself fall against the floor.  

He was broken, falling apart. All Moxxie wanted to do was curl up into a ball and let Hell swallow him. Things were awful - he was awful.

He had done it, finally. He had come undone. Just for tonight. But, just long enough to get everything out. Tomorrow, he'd pick up the pieces. Put himself back together as best he could.

But… until then, he laid there. A crying, angry, scared imp, who needed to let everything out.

Chapter Text

Sizzling.  Quiet, popping sounds of heated oil, splashing about a pan.  That was the sound that roused Moxxie from his slumber.  He didn't quite remember when he fell asleep - only that he was still crying on the floor when he did.  

The smell of fresh bacon filled the apartment, along with… something.  He couldn't discern what.  There was definitely something burning… but, he could hear footsteps, quickly rushing back and forth.  The sound of a spatula clattering into the sink, along with a few pans. Part of him wanted to keep his eyes shut, try to get a few more hours of sleep.

But, he had laid around long enough.  Moxxie had allowed himself to fall apart - now it was time to pick up the pieces.

An eye cracked open, the dim lights of the apartment turned on.  The cushion had been stuffed under his head, half of it pressed against his face.  A blanket rested across him midsection… he didn't grabbing one last night.  Millie had thrown one on him maybe?

He sat up, slowly pushing up off the floor.  Ugh, his shoulder hurt.  He usually slept on his back.  His fingers were a little numb, pins and needles moving their way up his arm.  No matter, it'd be back to normal soon enough, now that he wasn't laying on it.

“Sonuvabitch!”

The burning smell grew especially potent, before being joined by the clear smell of smoke.  That definitely wasn't good. Mox leaned against the couch, standing up as he peered over into the kitchenette.

Millie stood in front of the stove, three different pans occupying three of the four burners on the stove.  One contained a gray, clumpy concoction, of what he suspected to be an attempt at scrambled eggs.  Another pan had a slice of bread in it - though, it had been charred beyond recognition.  Black, flaky crumbs sat beside it, with a knife on the edge of the table, blade sticking outward.  It looked like she had tried - and failed - to scrape the burned top off the slice. The third pan contained small, thin pieces of… something.  Moxxie couldn't even tell - he thought he smelled bacon, but it was too hard to determine over the smell of smoke. 

“What's wrong?” He asked, knowing exactly what was wrong.  His voice was hoarse… chest was feeling congested, too.  The last thing he needed right now was to get sick.

Millie's head snapped around, staring at him.

“... Ah, shit.  Sorry, didn't mean ta wake ya.” She huffed, reaching down to the knobs at the front of the stove.  One by one, she twisted them, the flames at each eye on the stove being snuffed out.  She turned, grabbing the trash can and dragging it in front of the stove.

“Tried making breakfast?” His voice cracked slightly, throat hurting from his dry it was.  Moxxie stepped to Millie's side, turning on the faucet and cupping his hands under it.

“Er… yeah.” She smiled awkwardly, pinching a corner of the “toast” and tossing it into the can.  “There's a reason why I man the bar at my job.”

Moxxie leaned down, taking a sip of water he had managed to collect.  Enough to wet his mouth and throat.  Once he had finished, he turned off the tap.  Millie took advantage of the free sink, tossing the pan into it, now that Moxxie wasn't leaning over it.

“I appreciate the thought.” He smiled, turning towards her.  His voice was definitely still hoarse, his throat still a bit sore, but it wasn't uncomfortable to speak, at least. Millie was busy trying to scrape the remnants of the mystery meat from the bottom of the second pan.

“Though, honestly… I wouldn't have blamed you if you asked us to leave first thing.”

“Ain't gonna lie, I was tempted.”

She picked up the pan, smacking it against the edge of the trash can.  Burned bits crumbled out into it… though, not much.  She turned it back upwards, seeing how little had come out.  It'd probably need to soak first, let it loosen -

She dropped the pan into the trash, scooping the gray goop on top of it, before tossing it into the sink.  That worked too, he guessed.

“But, it wouldn't help much.  We're in this together now, whether we like it or not.”

That was a relief… Moxxie took a step forwards.

“Thank you.  You won't-”

She held up a hand, stopping him from coming any closer.

“This is your one and only chance.” Millie warned.  “Lie to me or B again, or put us in danger like that, and you're out.”

“Right… understood.”

Millie pulled her hand back, smiling.  “Good.”

She stepped past him, heading towards the sink.  Her fingers wrapped around the water handle, twisting it til hot water came out.  That was it?

“... You're not… I mean…” Moxxie sighed quietly.  “I really messed up.  I put you all in danger.  Who's to say I won't do it again?”

“You just did,” She reached above, to one of the cabinets.  Her fingers blindly fumbled inside it, before latching onto a bottle of dish soap.  She dragged down a rag with it. “I'm takin’ your word for it.  Don't make me regret it.”

He… wow…

She still trusted him, at least somewhat.  He almost wanted to cry - no one had ever really… trusted him with something so important before.  Or trusted him to such a degree.  Not even Chaz, or his father, had displayed even a modicum of trust in him.  He felt his eyes stinging…

Ugh, no.  He pinched the bridge of his nose.  No more tears - he was sick of crying.

“Have you heard from Blitzø?”

“Nope.”

That was concerning.

“Should we, uh… try looking for him?  He's been gone for a while now.”

“Trust me, B can take care of himself. He gets like this sometimes, ‘specially when things are tough.” Millie spoke, clearly not worried about the taller imp.  She wasn't exactly wrong - Moxxie had seen Blitzø's capabilities first hand.  He had managed to take out three guards at a time during their prison break, and more likely than not killed twice as many guards as Moxxie… still, he couldn't help but be worried.

“Give him a day.  He'll be back.”

“Alright…” Moxxie sighed.  No point in wasting time worrying about him.  He had Loona-

“Loona,” He spoke, turning towards the door to their bedroom.  Millie glanced over her shoulder at him - he could see her brow furling.  That's where her true worry was.

“You… better check on her.  She didn't wake up last night.  Figured she might need the rest, but…”

He didn't wait for her to finish before walking away.  Moxxie was awful - he hadn't even gave a thought to her.  Too busy wallowing in worry and self-pity.  

He pushed the door open, the hinges creaking.  A gray ball of fur sat in the center of her fort, curled up with a blanket over her.

“Loona?” Moxxie stepped towards the fort.  He knelt down, grabbing the edge of the blanket.  A quiet growl escaped her, pressing her chin into the edge.

“Loona, it's me-”

“I don't wanna talk…” She huffed, keeping her eyes closed.  The hellhound shifted onto her shoulder, facing away from Moxxie.

“Okay… that's okay.”

It was reasonable for her to be less than excited to talk about what happened.  He wasn't looking forward to it either.

“Do… you want something to eat?  I can run to the diner, get us some bacon.”

“Not hungry.” She spoke quickly, pressing her head back against the pillow.  Her tail curled around her upper body, legs drawn up against her stomach.

Not hungry… that wasn't good.  Loona could always eat.  The only time he had seen her like this…

It was after he was in prison.  But even then, she bounced back pretty quickly after a few days.  This was different, clearly.

“Is… um…”

A quiet growl escaped her, making Moxxie jump at the sudden noise… she was growling at him.  She knew she was safe - right?  He'd never hurt her - never let anyone hurt her again.  He needed to know she knew that.

“Let's talk, okay?  Just - just for a bit.  After that, I promise I'll leave you alone.”

Another growl escaped her, before a quiet sigh.  She pushed her hands into her pillow, shifting upwards.  Her hair was messy, blood still on the fur surrounding her lips.  Dark bags had worked their way around her eyes.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded slowly, her head bobbing as she stared forwards, blankly.  Her eyes were glassy, glazed over. 

“It's, uh… it's okay to not be okay, okay?”

“Okay.” She spoke, her voice monotone.  Flat, no real emotion conveyed.  She was saying what he wanted to hear - or, what she thought he wanted to hear.  Probably to get him out of her hair soon.  He was awful at this…

No, no - it could still be okay, right?  Maybe - maybe she really was just tired?  Some rest, yeah - that would help.  Surely.  He just needed to give her some space.  And he would… but, first.

“Uhm… uh, let me get a rag.” Moxxie stood up.  “You got, uh…”

“Blood on me?” She turned upwards, towards him.  Her voice became sharp - a pointed undertone of anger, directed at him.  He couldn't blame her - she had every right to be angry at him.  Mox had failed her, and it wasn't the first time he had done it.  What was he thinking, trying to be a father?  He was a degenerate ex-mobster, what kind of dad could he be but a bad one?

No - that wasn't true.  He wasn't gonna lay down, let life roll over him anymore.  Moxxie was going to be a better dad than his father.  He just… he just needed to prove it.  To himself and to Loona.

He inhaled, quietly.  “Yeah.  We need to clean that.” He took a step back. “Sure you don't need anything to drink?  Bite to eat, maybe?”

“No.” She spoke, turning her head downwards.  Moxxie turned away, heading back into the kitchenette.  Millie turned towards him, her brow relaxed, staring at him.

“She doin’ alright?”

Moxxie tried to keep a stone face… but, he couldn't help but give her a glance filled with worry.  His brow was furled, staring at her, before turning back towards the sink.  He reached into the cabinet above, retrieving a fresh washcloth and wetting it.  Without a word, he turned, heading back into his room.  Loona had barely moved.

“Okay… let me get you clean.” He smiled softly, staring down at her.  “Head up, sweetie.”

She rolled her eyes at “sweetie”, before lifting her head.  The blood had dried, caked in some places.  He'd need to get some soap to get out the thicker bits… buy, this would do for now.  Carefully, he rubbed the wet cloth against her chin.  Slowly, but surely, her fur turned from a brownish-red to its natural gray color.

“You did great last night.” Moxxie smiled.  “You were very brave.”

She scoffed.  “You're just trying to make me feel better.  I wasn't brave.”

Well, she had sniffed that out pretty quickly… should've expected that - the girl was so smart.

“You managed to bite one of them.  That makes you brave, to me.” He spoke, running the washcloth down her jaw.

“I had to.  You weren't here.” She growled quietly.  Mox flinched slightly - not because he was scared of her, but because he knew she was right.  He wasn't there.

“Just like when you said you'd be back before we left the alley.”

“I…”

He didn't have any excuse, nor would he insult her with one.

“You're right.  I'm sorry - I promise-”

“Promise you'll do better?” She turned up to him, staring at him.  Her shoulders dropped, tail resting limply behind her legs.  She had heard that plenty of times before, it seemed, and had been disappointed by such promises before.

Mox was determined not to add to that disappointment.

“I will , Loona.” He spoke confidently.  “That will never happen again.”

“We'll see.” She spoke, her voice low.  Not even the slightest change in her behavior - no hopefulness, nor any sign of forgiving him.  She was utterly unconvinced by his promise.  

“Yes, we will.” Moxxie smiled, pulling the cloth back.  He wasn't going to let any doubt creep into his voice - even if he could feel it starting to bubble up in his chest.  Fears that he would prove her suspicions about his dedication to her correct.  That fear was accompanied by an equal part of determination - that he absolutely would not let anything like that happen again.

He stood up.  “Just come get me if you need anything, okay?”

Loona nodded, before she turned away.  Probably glad to be left alone - he couldn't blame her.  Her trust in him had been shaken - he needed to rebuild it, and quickly.

Chapter Text

Moxxie yawned quietly, standing in front of the mirror. He gave his face a glance, looking for any signs or dirt or grime. Per usual, he had scrubbed it clean in the shower… but, it wouldn't hurt to double-check. It was an important day, and he wanted to look his best. He had on his suit and bowtie… gotta make a good first impression, right?

Yeah, of course. It would be his first day at his first legal job. Well, as legal as one could be in Hell. He wasn't naive to the idea that the diner was probably involved in some sort of shady business. But, he wouldn't be a part of it. He had Loona to think about now. Just as important, he had to regain her trust.  

Another yawn ripped through him, quickly followed by a congested cough. Yep, he was definitely getting sick. The consequence of suddenly shifting his sleep schedule, he guessed. That, and the sudden stress of owing more money than he had ever seen in his lifetime. And the thought of being homeless. And Loona possibly hating him…

… he had a lot to be stressed about, huh?

Well… didn't give him an excuse to give up. He leaned over the sink, turning on the tap. Mox dipped his fingers under the flow of water, splashing some cold water onto his face. Another yawn threatened to push out of him as he straightened his back. He grabbed onto the knobs of the sink, twisting until the water came to a stop. No more lounging around - work needed to be done.

He stepped out of the bathroom. Millie stood at the kitchen counter, tying her hair back. Bags had worked beneath her eyes. She seemed about as tired as he was… maybe he needed to invest in a coffee maker.

“Ya ready?” She spoke, fingers still working to tie her unruly hair. “We ought to get there soon. Boss doesn't really show up, but they'd know if we didn't.”

“Yeah,” Moxxie spoke, yawning quietly, stepping towards Blitzø's room - it might as well have been theirs now, considering how little he had been around. “Just need to get Loona.”

Millie finally tied her hair back into a small ponytail. She turned towards him. “She's comin’ with us?”

“Well… yeah. Not leaving her alone after what happened.” Moxxie turned towards her. “I know it isn't ideal, but… the place is safe. Outside of my dad's usual routes, it's pretty quiet, and we'll both be there if anything does happen.”

“Right.” Millie nodded. “She's got stuff to do while we're there, right?”

“Study books, paper, and crayons.” Mox spoke. He had thought this through… it was a lot safer than leaving her here alone. Plus, it wasn't like he had any cash to hire a babysitter. He had thought about asking Blitzø to look after her… before realizing how bad of an idea that would be. Blitzø was irresponsible, prone to making impulsive decisions, and unreliable. If he thought she'd be in danger, it'd be one thing… but, unless he had no other choice, he wasn't keen on having Blitzø babysit.

“Alright… Just makin’ sure.” Millie spoke, covering her mouth as another loud yawn escaped her. She stared at him, eyes glancing down to his chest, then back up. “You ain't wearing that, are ya?”

“What's wrong with this?” Moxxie questioned. He looked okay, didn't he? Maybe he needed a different tie - red looked a little too much like his old outfit. Or, maybe she wanted a different colored undershirt? “Do I… uh, look bad?”

He held his hands out in front of his chest, balling them together. Moxxie thought he looked good…

Millie snorted. “Hun, it looks good… but, ya ain’t gonna need to look fine today.” 

She thought he looked good… damn, he couldn't remember the last time someone said it and actually meant it. Even if it was quickly followed by a reason for him to lose the suit.

She took a step forward. “But, yer gonna be in a hot kitchen all day. You wear a full suit and tie, and you'll be cooked by the end of the day.”

Aw… Moxxie was kinda excited to wear it. He liked his suit. But… she was right.

“Alright… I'll get Loona ready, then get rid of the tie and coat.” He slinked towards the door to Blitzø's bedroom. Millie smirked, shooting a glance towards him as he passed… it did seem like she did like how he looked in it. He'd need to remember that.

He pushed the door open, the old hinges creaking as light seeped into the room. The little gray ball of fur laid in front of her fort, using a pillow as her main source of comfort… she hadn't gotten into the bed since his dad came for a visit. Moxxie wasn't about to take it from her, in case she did change her mind, so the pair had ended up sleeping on the floor for the past few nights. Loona usually stayed in her fort, while Moxxie opted to sleep near the foot of the bed, in front of her.  

He pulled his bowtie loose, letting the ends hang over his shoulders as he pulled his coat off. Mox undid the top button of his shirt, tossing his coat and tie onto the bed. He didn't really have much in the way of clothes… once he got paid, he'd need to pick up some for work. That was, if he had any money left over after he put away his dad’s cut.

But, he'd worry about that later. He had to get Loona ready.

Moxxie knelt down slowly, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her head jumped up, white eyes piercing him. She looked like she was ready to bite him… but, she had refrained, for whatever reason.

“Sorry, but… I need to go to work.”

“So go.” She snapped back, shrugging his hand off her shoulder. He sighed quietly… she had been more quick to snap at him, lately. More prone to anger, or to ignoring him entirely.

“Loona… we talked about this last night.” He spoke softly. “I'm not leaving you alone here, so you need to come with me.”

She groaned, turning over.

“I can take care of myself.” She hissed. “Let me sleep.”

“Loona…” His voice was soft, careful. Part of him felt annoyed with her… it had been getting increasingly hard not to be annoyed with her new attitude. “Please. You can sleep when we get to the diner, promise.”

Another groan came out of her, longer. Finally, she sat up, her hair an unkempt mess. She stood, stretching. Joints and bones cracked as she straightened out her tail, before relaxing.

“Alright… let's go.” She sighed, stepping past him. Moxxie followed behind her, pulling the door shut behind him. She didn't bother to speak to Millie, keeping her eyes planted on the ground as she headed towards the front door. Moxxie headed over to the kitchen table, retrieving her study books as Millie walked past them. He followed behind her as Loona pushed the door open, the three heading out for the day.

—

The kitchen was… not what he expected. He had nearly slipped when he stepped in - the floor was covered in grease and grime. The grill wasn't much better, with what he assumed was once a stainless steel griddle turned black from constant use and improper cleaning. He dragged his finger against it, and while there were some patches of the griddle that stuck up, or divots in the steel… it seemed to look worse than it actually was.

He had a… flat thingy. He thought it was a spatula, and he could definitely use it like one, but spatulas had holes, and were shorter, weren't they? Three little holes in the middle of the thin head, with the thing being short and thin, not wide and bulky.

The kitchen was a lot smaller than he was expecting, too. There was a main “station” in the center of the room - really just a stainless steel table with a cutting board. It was a little cramped, between it and the grill. There was little room for him to move between the table and the grill, but not much. At the far end of the room, next to the deep freezer, was a pair of shelves. One held unused tongs, spatulas, knives, and other utensils, while the other held items that didn't need to be refrigerated - bread, potatoes, peppers and onions, and others. There was a sink against the right wall, with a drying rack mounted above it… otherwise, the kitchen was pretty empty.

… Maybe looking up musicals wasn't the best form of research. Mox knew how to cook - he wasn't really worried about that, moreso about the utensils he'd have to use. The place didn't seem to have any fryers - not that he'd know what they looked like to begin with. Hell, the only thing he recognized was the deep freezer… and that was because of his old line of work.

Speaking of which, the door creaked open. Millie came out, a pair of cardboard boxes in her hands. The imp practically glided across the floor. Gracefully, not even a shred of fear or concern about falling. It put him to shame - he had to use the table and wall for support to walk in. Even now, he could feel his feet trying to slip out underneath him.  

She sat them on the table, lifting the top box off the bottom and sitting it in front of him. “Alright… this should be everythin’ you need.” Millie spoke, tapping on the box in front of him. “That's got eggs, cheese, ‘n jugs of milk. The other one's got pre-made stuff. Hashbrowns, French toast, all the fixin's.”

French toast! It had been forever since he had some - or made some. His mom- mother, had a recipe for it. He, uh… hadn't really touched it since she left. Guessed he wouldn't get that chance anymore, now that he and his dad's relationship was pretty… tenuous, now.

“Already know ya can cook eggs ‘n stuff. Everything else is pretty simple - just gotta cook it on the grill.”

“That's all?”

“Yep. Ain't nothing fancy.”

Aw… he was kinda looking forward to being fancy. One musical he saw had a chef dicing potatoes, making puree, and simmering soup in the same song. Of course, that was before he buried a knife in his sous chef's hand for overcooking a steak… but, still. He really should look into more musicals… he liked them, even if he had only heard of them a few days ago.

“You need me to explain anything? Got any questions?”

Nothing came to mind. The grill was pretty easy, and he knew how to make eggs, omelettes… he could handle this.

“Before it gets busy, would it be okay if I made Loona some breakfast?”

“Oh, sure hun.” Milie smiled. “Owner don't really keep tabs on stuff anyways, so go ahead.”

Moxxie smiled. It really warmed his heart to have a friend like Millie. She was so kind, sweet, cute… he could go on. He always got a warm feeling in his chest whenever they had a conversation - felt a little weird, but it was good.

“Thanks. I'll make sure to repay you.”

“Don't worry about it, hun.” She smiled, before turning. The door creaked as she pushed it open, stepping out in front of the counter… he wished they could hang out more. With the new job, he guessed he'd have the opportunity now. But, there were more important things to take care of.

He stepped towards the pair of boxes, grabbing a pair of eggs, a couple slices of bacon, and a piece of bread. Navigating the greasy floor was a bit of a challenge, but he didn't have far to step to make it to the grill. He tossed the bacon and bread onto the grill, cracking the pair of eggs a few inches away… he didn't hear it sizzling…

… Oh, it was off. Duh. He twisted the pair of knobs, twisting them til he couldn't anymore. Slowly, he could hear the bacon starting to cook, the egg whites setting. After that, it was pretty simple. Mox was a decent cook - even when he was using a weird spatula. Soon enough, he had a pair of sunny-side up eggs, bacon, and crispy toast in a to-go box, along with a plastic fork and knife.  

Slowly, he made his way out of the kitchen, taking slow, calculated steps. It would take a lot of time to get used to walking in the kitchen. The grease seemed to cling to his shoes, making it hard to walk even when he stepped outside. It may be a good idea to invest in some new shoes - his current ones were just dress shoes, no treads to grip the floor. 

Finally, he stepped out into the main dining room. His shoes were slick, but the floor was clean. Walking was still difficult, but not nearly as bad as it was in the kitchen. He turned, heading towards the corner booth.  Loona had opted to sit there, her books piled up in front of her, alongside a few pieces of paper and some crayons.

She looked like she would've preferred to be anywhere else- dark bags formed under her eyes, in part due to Moxxie waking her up so early. Her eyelids were barely open, her mouth ajar with slow, long breaths escaping her. She was still in her pajamas - the Fizzarolli-themed shirt and pants fitting her a bit better than they had nearly half a year ago.  He thought he had noticed her growing a bit, but that had confirmed it. Before, the legs of the pants dragged against the ground, and Loona would have to fight the arms of the shirt to get her hands out.

“Hey,” Moxxie said, sitting the plate down in front of her. Loona’s head snapped up, claws digging into the table as she bared her teeth. The hellhound’s body relaxed, once she saw it was him. Her claws pulled back from the wooden table, her head lowering slightly… she had cut into it a bit, but nothing major. Nothing too noticeable, he hoped. 

“Sorry - made you breakfast. You can sleep once you finish it.”

Loona huffed quietly, the breath turning into a yawn as she shifted upwards, pressing her back into the leather seat. She picked up the plastic utensils, stabbing into a piece of bacon and sliding it into her mouth. Lazily, she chewed, her mouth half open. She put an elbow up on the table, resting the side of her head against her free palm.

“That okay? Upside of getting up this early, I guess.”

Sluggishly, she nodded, biting into another piece of bacon. That was good, at least. He supposed it was hard to mess up bacon… but, after the last few days, Moxxie could take whatever approval from her he could get. It had been… rough, since his dad had come to “visit.” He had yet to get back on her good side - or if he had, she hadn't shown him that yet. Talking to her was like pulling teeth - slow and uncomfortable.

“I know this is a bit… earlier, than what you're used to, but working here will help us with paying the bills.”

“Paying back your dad, you mean.”

And, when she did speak… it was usually not a kind comment. He deserved it, he guessed… but, that didn't make it any less painful.

“Yes… my dad.” Moxxie spoke, leaning forwards. “I'm sorry, Loona.”

She rolled her eyes. “You keep saying that.”

“And I will keep saying it, because I mean it.”

He did. Moxxie was sorry that he did what he did. That he was related to his father, who seemed to be uncaring of what his son desired and if he hurt him or not.

But, him saying it didn't mean Loona believed him. She didn't even look him in the eyes, turning back down to her plate and stabbing into a piece of bacon. It had gone on like this for days… Moxxie was used to walking on eggshells, but not around her. How long would it take her to forgive him? Would she even allow him such a kindness? He didn't deserve it-

No, enough. It was hard to catch himself when he started to descend into self-pity, but he truly was tired of the cycle he put himself through. It achieved nothing, except to make him feel worse about himself. If Moxxie wanted to change, then he needed to break that habit.

“Okay…” Moxxie stood up from the booth. “If you need anything, come get me or Millie.”

Loona nodded, not even looking up at him. She took another small, slow bite from her third slice of bacon… she was talking to him, at least. Had to look at the positives, especially now. If he stopped to think about the negatives… Well, he wouldn't get anything done.

—

Moxxie slowly stepped up the stairs… he didn't realize his… everything, could be tired. He had some rough nights when he was Ms. Mayday's bodyguard, and when he was in the mob. But, working at the diner was making him question how Millie had lasted so long there. The morning had been hectic, with Moxxie barely able to keep up with the demand. At least with bodyguarding, he could stay stationary for the most part - even sit. At least with the mob, he could go at his own pace, as long as he paid his share. But, the diner was different entirely.

There had been at least 50 imps and hellborn who came in within an hour. Most of them either coming home from or on the way to their job, all of them impatient. He cooked basically everything Millie had sat out for him - and still needed to get more from the freezer. That was before lunch.

Granted, like Millie had mentioned, after breakfast, it slowed down greatly in terms of customers. He had time to cook Loona a decent lunch and even dinner. It wasn't anything fancy or unique, but it was a hot meal, that was the important thing. 

He had neglected to do the same for himself. Moxxie figured he could eat something when he got home… but, considering how his… everything, was sore, a hot shower to get the grease off of him and going to bed seemed like the better option.

“Not bad for your first day, Mox.”

Millie stepped up beside him, Loona trailing slowly behind them. The hellhound had barely spoke a word to him after breakfast, but Millie had filled up the empty space in conversation. He pulled his head up to look at her, barely able to move his lips to form a half a smile.

“Thanks.” He spoke, his voice monotonous. Mox didn't really have the energy for conversation, not right now.

“You good?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He spoke, his throat scratchy. Mox had also neglected to drink much of anything during the day too. He didn't have a cup, and he knew he'd need to wash one if he took one from the front… so, he had to rely on free moments between orders. He'd just dip his head under the sink's faucet and take a few sips. It wasn't comfortable, nor easy, but better than nothing.

“Is, uh… this your first real job?” Millie spoke quietly, as if she were trying to spare him from some embarrassment.

“Yeah,” He answered plainly. Mox wasn't afraid to admit it. “My first legal one, anyways.”

“What was it like? Workin’ with your dad, I mean.”

Heh. He doubted he could really encompass just how hard the mob was in a few words. Mox could fill books with all the ways he hated working for his dad, how he treated people, the political snake-pit that the Mafia was, and how you could never really trust anyone. That last one had been his fatal error when it came to the mob, he supposed. He gave Chaz the slightest bit of trust that he would see the job through… and, he had paid for it dearly.

But… he didn't have the energy. Nor the time.

“Bad.” He replied plainly. “I never want Loona to experience what I did.”

Millie smiled. “Told ya before, you're not the same person you were. Just gotta keep at it.”

She was right, of course… he still hadn't properly thanked her for what she did for him a few nights ago. He wasn't okay - she was right, and he absolutely needed it. It was gonna be hard to adjust… but, if he had Loona and Millie, he might be able to bear it.

“Thanks, Millie.”

“No problem, Mox.” Again, she smiled, that same soft, kind smile. He could get used to this, he guessed. But, first, he needed to get his father the money he was owed. Working one job wasn't gonna get 50 grand in a month… he'd need to look into another one tomorrow. Maybe two. It'd be cutting it close… but, if he worked as much as he could and didn't spend a thing, maybe he could do it? He still had Blitzø, he supposed… he just hoped the imp hadn't gotten himself in trouble.  

Ugh, he was too tired to even think about work… shower, sleep, then job-search. He could do this.

He had to do this.

Chapter Text

“Yes… yes, I know sir, but-”

A loud yelling pierced through his phone's speaker, nearly bursting Moxxie’s eardrum. He stopped in place, letting Millie and Loona walk ahead of him.  The past week had been rough - Mox had found that second, and third, job of his.  One was a delivery job - one with incredibly flexible hours.  Instead of delivering guns or drugs, like at his previous employment, it was mainly groceries or fast food.  Quick, easy, and he didn't have to interact much with others.  He had been working during the night, when Loona and Millie were asleep - he didn't want to drag Loona all across the city, especially into the more shady parts.

His third job was “security” at some fancy hotel just outside the city.  In truth, he was a glorified valet, pointing people to the parking lot, sending them away if they weren't guests - that sort of thing.  He did bring a gun, just in case, but he hadn't needed to use it yet.  That, too, was something he usually did at night.  Do a delivery on the way there, work, delivery on the way back, then back to the apartment to sleep for a few hours, before he got up for work at the diner.

It was torture to be awake for so long and working so much, but the pay had been worth it - he took home four grand last week.  He was only a tenth of the way to paying back the base amount his father demanded, but it was progress. Millie had been chipping in what she could, too.  She had been so nice… pleasant to work with.

The same couldn't be said for the boss at the hotel.

“Sir - sir,” He tried to cut in.  “I can't, I have another-”

Another piercing yell.  It was hard to tell exactly what the gruff voice was saying, but Moxxie caught the words “Here now, or you're fired.  He huffed quietly. Millie had slowed, turning back towards him, while Loona kept walking, head pointed downwards.  They were close enough to the apartment, she'd be okay heading up by herself.

“Okay, okay!  I'll be there!” He shouted back.  “Just give me -”

The phone beeped, the call ending.  Moxxie huffed… he had just gotten off from the diner.  He still needed to make deliveries… Maybe he could pull an all-nighter?

“Everythin’ alright, Mox?”

He turned up towards her.  “Have to head into work early… like, now.”

Moxxie stepped past her.  How was he gonna get to work in time?  The walk there was a good half-hour, even if he ran the whole way there.  His boss was pretty explicit about him being there within the next 15 minutes… how was he gonna get there?

“I'm sure B can-”

As Moxxie turned the corner, he saw Blitzø, beside his van and Loona.  The pair were… talking.  Weird.  Only time they spoke, as far as he could remember, was when he toppled her fort.  And that was not a pleasant conversation.  

But now, it seemed like they had mostly worked out any differences.  Loona barely returned any words, and didn't return a glance, while Blitzø did what he usually did - ran his mouth.  He leaned against the hood, body pressed against the wheel… Huh, there was blue paint on the hood?

Oh.  Oh.

The talk with Verosika hadn't gone well, clearly.

“... it's uh, better than nothin’.” Millie smiled.  “Told me he had some new stuff on it, didn't tell me what.”

The van was covered in curses and phallic objects.  “Will fuck anything with a hole,” “syphilis on wheels,” and a cartoonish, er… member, that was “scaled up 100000x” right across the hood.  He could only imagine what was on the rest of the car.

… On second thought, maybe he shouldn't.  And maybe Loona shouldn't get so close to it.  He took a few brisk steps forward, catching the end of whatever they were talking about.

“Why did she call you a motherfucker?”

Oh, she knew the swears.  Pronounced them without even stumbling.  He was only growing to hate whatever kennel she had been at more as he learned more about her.

“Eh, because she's a slu-”

“Sir,” Moxxie quickly interrupted before he could finish.  “Can I… er, talk to you for a minute?”

The last thing Moxxie needed was for Loona to hear more curses.  He wasn't ignorant of the fact she'd eventually hear the word, but he'd rather it be later than sooner. Best case, she'd call someone else one, and he'd need to smooth things over with them.  Worst case… well, she'd ask him what it was.  And that was absolutely not a conversation he wanted to have.

Blitzø turned towards him, his lips curling downwards.

“Heeeey, Mox.  Moxxie, Mox-man, M-O-X-”

“ Sir, ” Mox stopped him before he could attempt to spell the rest of his name.  Knowing Blitzø, he'd probably leave out the extra X.  Or the I.  Maybe both.  “I need to speak to you.”

“Right, right,” Blitzø turned, stepping into the road, towards the front of the van.  Moxxie turned.

“Okay Loona, go ahead and head-”

… She had already started walking away before he even turned.  The hellhound was at the door to their apartment complex, pushing it open.  He really was trying to be patient with her, but it was getting harder.  Mox wanted to say goodbye…

No, it's okay.  He's doing this for her.  He had to remember that.

Millie turned up towards the building, then back to Moxxie.

“I'll keep an eye on ‘er.”

“Thanks…” Moxxie huffed… his back was sore.  He wanted to lay down, watch some late-night dramas on his phone, and try to repair the bridge he had damaged with Loona.  That wasn't happening tonight, it appeared.  He turned back towards Blitzø.  The taller imp leaned over the hood, using his sleeve to try and wipe the massive dick off.

“Can you drive me to a hotel out of town?”

“Got a hot date?”

“Work.” He replied plainly.  Wasn't really in the mood for Blitzø's attempts at comedy.  Not that his jokes usually landed with Moxxie, anyhow.

“Yeah… work.  Uh, by the way.  The thing with Verosika, it-”

“I know.” 

How couldn't he know?  The state of the van was enough to tell him things had not gone well for him.  He had been tempted to call Verosika himself, to see if he could get some work alone… but, he felt bad about doing it behind Blitzø's back.  The imp had helped him break out of jail and had taken him into his home.  He had let him sleep in his bed, while not asking for much in return.  It felt like a betrayal of some sort…

Was Blitzø… his friend?  That seemed like the only descriptor for their relationship.

“Don't worry.  Daddy's gonna figure this all out for ya, Mox.”

… and he made it weird.  He tried not to recoil at the usage of the word, and at the implication that he was the son in the metaphor.  Though, he supposed Chazwick had ruined the word for him first…

Eugh.  The less said, the better.  He'd rather not start off his long night nauseated thinking about how stupid he had been with Chaz.

And, thankfully, Blitzø seemed to recognize the sheer awkwardness he had created.  Though, instead of trying to ease the tension, he opted to run away from it.  He hopped into the van, the engine sputtering to a start.  

—

Moxxie tapped away idly at his phone.  For as much trouble as he had gone through to get to the hotel, it wasn't nearly as busy as his boss made it out to be.  The first few minutes were pretty hectic, but since then?  Nothing.  It wasn't exactly surprising - the hotel was one step removed from being a motel.  It was worn down, the main building made up of crumbling bricks and old wood.  The parking lot he was responsible for wasn't much better.  Potholes and cracks littered the concrete, with gravel packed into some of them.  It wasn't helping.

Finally, there was him.  His little box he sat in for eight hours most nights.  It was incredibly basic, with only the essentials for the job.  There was a large chair, sitting in front of an open window facing the road. A floating shelf sat to the left, with a space for him to place personal objects, along with a flashlight.  In the road, there was a small, motorized barrier sat at the center, with poles to block both sides of the road - or, there should've been, rather.  He found the destroyed remnants of the poles on his first day, which eliminated that part of his job, at least for the moment.

Cars pulled in, showed their info, and Mox sent them on their way.  For cars leaving, he'd need to go out and talk at their window, as well as taking their little.. placard, was the word his boss used when he trained him.  Other than that… there wasn't much for him to do.  He could check the parking lot if he wanted, but it wasn't as important as manning the entrance.

It was a bit boring, but it paid decently, and didn't require much effort.  A plus for the position was that it allowed him to wear his suit, something that he missed a bit more than he thought he would.  He didn't wear his father's jacket - it didn't fit him well, and he’d rather not be reminded of his dad.  Besides, his own jacket was better - Millie said he looked good in it, and he actually fit in it.

His phone buzzed, a message popping across the screen.  Speaking of Millie, there she was - messaging him.

“Hows wrk?”

She'd usually text with him while he was out for work.  Nothing major- just checking in occasionally, but the thought behind it was nice.  It was sweet of her to talk with him, to make sure he was okay.  He felt comfortable calling her a friend - more than Blitzø, anyhow.

“Slow, but not bad.”

“Good,” She replied, before quickly following up with another message. “glad to hear it :)”

He smiled at her smile.  She was a great friend… he knew she had to be tired.  Their work days were slow, but still exhausting.  It meant a lot, knowing she was staying up for him…

Wait - maybe she felt like she had to?  With how he had acted - so downtrodden and upset - maybe she felt obligated.  He didn't want that.  She had done so much for him already, she didn't have to stay awake on his behalf. 

“You know you don't need to stay up, right?”

Okay, there.  Now she knew.

… Wait, what if she took that as him telling her to go away?  He didn't want that either.

“It's nice of you to but you don't need to”

That was better… right?

“Of course it's nice and i enojy the company but dont stay up fro me”

Dammit, his hands were shaky now.  He sat there, typing in half a message before deleting it, trying to find the right words.  It was hard - why was talking to her hard?  He was such an idiot - she's gonna laugh at him.  Was there a way to delete messages?  Maybe he could-

His phone vibrated, Millie finally replying.

“Haha, dont worry hun, like talking to you ;)”

Oh, thank Christ.  He felt a wave of relief wash over him - he half-expected her to just stop talking to him, write him off as a weirdo.

“I like talking to you too.”

He typed back quickly, before writing again.

“How's Loona?”

Mox looked up from his phone - per usual, still nothing.  He could hear music coming from the hotel.  Sounded like… electronic, if he heard right.  Lots of warped drums, ear-piercingly loud piano notes, and bone-shaking base drops.  He swore he could feel the vibrations from whatever sound system they had in there.

Speaking of vibrations, his phone buzzed.

“She's okay.  B and her r hanging out”

That wasn't exactly… comforting.  Blitzø was a lot - and a lot of his… stuff, wasn't exactly kid friendly.  He just hoped he would have enough sense not to mess with her, or to avoid teaching her any of his less-than-legal skills.  She was only… only…

Huh.  He didn't know how old she actually was.  That was odd… he guessed she was nine or ten, but that was only a guess.  An uneducated guess at that - Moxxie wasn't exactly familiar with how hellhounds aged. He hoped she didn't think he didn't care about that.  Oh Satan, what if he had missed her birthday?  She deserved a good birthday, at least - or, if it already passed, he at least needed to know for next year, and to give her a sincere apology.

“Make sure she gets a good meal, and that Blitz doesn't burn down the apartment.” Moxxie typed back.  He was tired of sitting - the least he could do was check the perimeter.  It seemed like the activity had diminished drastically - he may as well check around the front.  

“Need to do rounds, brb.”

He left his phone on the shelf, taking the flashlight.  While checking the parking lot wasn't necessary, Mox liked to check it a couple times a night.  Sitting in the chair all night made it hard for him to stay awake - seemed like a good way to move without getting in trouble… though, he usually relied on that a bit later into his shift.  It was terribly slow already.  

It was going to be a long night

—

The sun.  Moxxie wished he could shoot it.  He'd seen it come up, fall, and rise again.  Mox hadn't pulled an all-nighter in months - not since he left the mob, at least. Forgot how much he hated them.  It had been a real struggle not to fall asleep during those last few hours, but he made it.  Now, he just needed to get home.

He was glad Blitzø had dropped him off.  Mox wouldn't trust himself not to fall asleep behind the wheel… the last thing he needed was a medical bill.  He was three weeks away from needing to pay his dad, and he had barely made a dent in his debt… how the Hell was he supposed to scrounge up all that cash?  Maybe he wasn't meant to.  Just another way of his dad exercising control.  Teaching him that he was nothing without him.

Well… he was wrong.  Moxxie would be something.  He'd be a good father… get a job that was at least kinda legal, and get as far away from the mob as he could.  Moxxie would do better.  He'd-

The sound of a horn snapped him out of his trance.  Blitzø's van sat in the center of the road, the imp practically laying on the horn.  He really was tired - he never even noticed him pulling up.  The paint Verosika had so kindly gifted him was still on his car.  Seemed like Blitzø didn't care enough to try and get it off.

Mox stepped off the curb, into the road.  Clumsily, he grabbed the door handle, pulling it open.  The smaller imp clambered up into the cabin, feet scraping against the side of the door as he tried to push himself up.  Finally, he grabbed onto the seat belt, using that as a strap to yank himself up.

“Morning, Moxxie.  Ya look like shit.”

“Morning sir.” He mumbled, buckling into the seat.  His head leaned against the door, cheek pressed against the window.  Just from the reflection in the window, Moxxie could tell Blitzø wasn’t kidding. He did look like shit.  Bags had worked their way into his eyes, leaving deep, purple marks under his eyes, contrasting with his red skin.  He looked pale, his skin looking almost pink instead of a deep red.  His hair was messy, stray strands of hair poking out around his horns.  

“Mills went ahead and called you out today, so I'll be taking over for ya.”

“No,” Moxxie spoke, turning towards him.  He had to work.  There was no other option.  “I can-”

“ Mox, you couldn't hear the car horn.  I know your hearing is shit, but c'mon.”

Dammit.  He was fine.   It wasn't like he had much choice anyways, he needed to work.  If he could muster the energy, he'd argue back… Sure, he might've felt like a walking corpse, but he had to get paid. 

“Oh, and don't worry - I made Loona some breakfast before I came to pick you up.  Millie offered, but trust me, you don't want to try her cooking.  This one time…”

Blitzø continued talking, but his words were hard to understand.  Moxxie just… turned, staring out the window.  Watching the landscape as they drove down the road.  Mostly sand, but not the deep brown Wrath's sand usually had.  It was coarse, a light red, almost orange.  The landscape was almost empty, aside from the occasional abandoned building.  His chin bobbed as his eyes tried to force themselves shut… maybe Millie was right to call him out.  Maybe Blitzø had a point.  It would be nice to just… sleep, for once.

“... Loona's doing great with her lifting, by the way.”

… Loona?

“Huh?” Moxxie turned back towards Blitzø.

“You know, picking pockets?  She managed to lift my wallet earlier, before you asked me to drive you here.”

Picking pockets?  No, Loona wouldn't.  He had asked her not to, she wouldn't go behind him.  Blitzø had to be mistaken.

“She doesn't do that anymore.” He spoke quietly, his voice shaking and slurred.  Speaking was hard - he was exhausted.

“No need to be modest, Mox.  Your girl's got a talent for it.” He smirked, turning towards him.  “We practiced last night - taught her some stuff I picked up in the circus.  My dad taught me to use my tail, but she's got those fuckin’ claws, man - just stabs into the wallet and drags it out.  We even got Millie-”

“She,” He spoke a bit louder, his voice taking a sharp, angry edge.  Before he could grow any angrier, he took a sharp breath… he had to calm down.  He was tired, but that wasn't any excuse.

“... is she picking pockets again?”

“Uhhhh…” Blitzø's eyes went wide, before he slowly turned away.  “Nnnnnnoooo…” He drew out the word.

“Right…”

“Look - I didn't know, alright?  I was just excited the kid wanted to talk to me!  Figured that was something you two worked out, or something.”

Oh, they would work it out.  Of that, Moxxie was certain.  She knew he didn't want her doing that - it was dangerous.  How long had she been doing it behind his back?  Why did she feel the need to do it?  If someone caught her…

He didn't want to think about it. 

“I'll make it up to you somehow, Mox.  Trust me.”

“Just… I'm not angry at you,” Moxxie clarified, hoping to quell the clearly worried imp's nerves.  “I'm worried about her.”

“It's gonna be fine.” He dismissed his feelings, swatting them away.  “You got the day to fix shit, don't waste it.”

That was true… he guessed he should be thankful for that, at least.  Once he was home, he and Loona were going to have a very serious talk.

Chapter Text

Moxxie sat at the top of the stairs to his apartment, just… watching. His tail had coiled itself around his leg, the tip winding itself around his thigh. A mug of hot coffee sat beside him… he had barely touched it. Dark, heavy clouds rolled overhead. Acid rain, it looked like. Seemed like Hell itself was trying to tell him he needed to go in. To confront whatever awaited him once he spoke with Loona. He was afraid of what else he'd find out. It didn't help that he had been up for well over a day… It made him anxious. Paranoid.

When had she started lying to him? Why did she start lying to him? Had she ever stopped picking pockets, or had she just gotten better at hiding it? He wasn't there to watch her 24 hours a day, especially not lately. She had ample opportunity to do it. What else had lied about? Why did she lie to him?

Those last two scared him the most. He was worried that… that maybe he was just scraping the surface. That was the main reason he was afraid - if it was just the surface… maybe he wouldn't like what he'd find. He didn’t know what else she would’ve hidden, or even if she had hidden anything else, but… the possibility scared him. He wanted to trust her, but how could he do that when she wasn't open with him?

Part of him just… didn't want to bring it up. Confrontation was scary, and he was exhausted. He could just pass out on the couch, wake up later, and pretend he dreamt it up. But, no. That wasn't what a good parent would do. He remembered his mom - how she had sat him down and talked with him after the first time dad took him for “target practice.” It sucked, but he remembered it making him feel better. He just hoped it'd be the same for Loona.

He reached down, grabbing onto the mug and taking a slow sip from it. As he sipped, finally, he started to hear quiet hissing around him. A raindrop landed on the concrete in front of him, a loud hiss escaping the stone, quickly followed by a bit of smoke. Well… seemed like he was out of time. He forced himself up from the step, holding onto his mug and turning back towards the door. The conversation wasn't something he was looking forward to, but it needed to happen.

Moxxie managed to down the rest of the mug on his way up to the second floor. He hoped the caffeine would kick in soon - he'd need to think clearly for this. Sleep wasn't an option, not yet anyways. He had to work this out with her. Moxxie had to fix whatever he had broken. Clearly, he had done something. Something that he needed to undo, before Loona got herself in trouble.

Finally, after a walk that was about ten minutes longer than it should've been, Mox got to their apartment door. Part of the delay was from his exhaustion, the other from his nerves. He placed a hand on the knob… okay. It was gonna be okay… he needed to be okay for this. His fingers squeezed around the doorknob, the hinges squeaking as he swung it open.

The apartment was quiet, the remnants of Millie and Blitzø's morning rituals strewn out across the counter and couch. A small pillow and a blanket laid in a pile on the couch… where Blitzø had slept, probably. A half-empty cup of coffee sat on the floor beside it. He was surprised Blitzø even needed coffee. The imp was so active during most of the time he had been with him, bouncing from one conversation to the other, or from one task to the next. He only ever slowed down when he got really drunk, like that night guarding Verosika… and it was incredibly strange.

He stepped towards the couch, grabbing onto the cup by the brim. Mox stepped towards the kitchenette, placing the cup, and his mug, into the sink. A dirty pan had been lazily placed in the sink, the handle poking out of the corner, along with a pair of white plates and forks piled up beside the sink. Blitzø must've cooked - the pan wasn't burnt black, for one, and there weren't any pans missing, as far as he could tell. Was probably a good thing… he liked Millie, but after she somehow managed to burn toast, he wasn't sure if it was a good idea for her to cook…

Ugh, he was stalling. He had to do this, and he had to do it now. Moxxie turned towards their bedroom door, taking slow steps towards it. Okay… this would be okay… Everything was okay. He just needed to do this.

Mox placed his hand on the door, pushing it open. The hinges squeaked quietly, light seeping into the darkness.

“Loona?”

A gray head popped up from the covers on the floor, her red eyes near immediately visible. Their eyes met - only for a moment, before she turned away.

“I, uh… have some free time. We should talk.”

He stepped into the dark room, over pillows, blankets and dirty clothes. Mox needed to do laundry soon - he hadn't had time for much of anything besides work and sleep lately.

“I… uh, I heard from Blitzø. He told me that… you had been picking pockets-”

“Just say it.”

He paused mid-step… say what?

“I'm not sure what you-”

“Just tell me to go already…”

The hellhound pup brought her knees up to her chest, hugging herself. Her tail curled up around her… Mox was confused.

“Why would I tell you to go?”

Loona didn't speak - didn't move, not even as Moxxie stepped towards her. He knelt down behind her.

“Loona…?”

“I…” Her voice was hollow, shaky. She was trembling…

“You… you're getting tired of me…” She spoke softly. “I'm just dead weight - I - I'm useless, you're better off without me.”

“Loona -”

“They spoke to me… when your dad came.”

Her voice became more shaken, uneven.  

“They - they said I was just - just a pet. A mutt, that was all I'd ever be. That you'd get tired of me, and get rid of me before much longer.”

Oh… Loona…

“It… r- reminded me of what they said at the pound. That I'll be nothing. Do nothing.” She whimpered, a quiet whine escaping her. “Die like nothing…”

“Loona-”

“Your dad said - said he should just put me out of my misery! That you’d just get tired of me! Why weren’t you there?!” She snapped up, almost lunging at him. Her claws were out, teeth gnashing and sharp. “Why didn’t you stop him?! You don’t even care - you just care about - about work!” Again, another harsh, sharp growl. “So just admit it!”

“Loona…”

“What're you waiting for?!! Just - just tell me to leave already! I know you hate me for - for everything!” 

Her voice trembled, tears freely flowing from her. So much coming from her - hatred, pain, anger, sadness… all of it. Had she felt this way since his dad came?

“I'm nothing! Nobody! And you know it! So just… just…”

And just as quickly as her rage came, it left. She sank back down to the floor, curling up.

“... Just admit you were lying… when you said I was your daughter…”

So, she did hear that…

“Loona…” He knelt down, going to place his hand on her shoulder. She swatted him away.

“Don’t.”

“Okay, okay -” Moxxie pulled it back quickly. “No touching, got it. Why do you think I’m lying?”

She paused for a moment, her mouth opening, before quickly shutting. Her head raised, before lowering. It was like the words were stuck inside her - trying to say something, but her body, or mind, were refusing to cooperate. Mox knew the feeling too well.

“It's okay… just, breathe.”

He sat down in front of her, crossing one leg over the other.

“I'm sorry about everything.” 

Loona didn't pay him any attention, looking away… it hurt. It really, really hurt seeing her like this. And he had done it. Why was he so cruel?

“It's just… I've had a, uh… hard time, lately.”

And she hasn't? The orphaned hellhound pup who was homeless not even a year ago? Pathetic.

“My dad is… he's not…”

Even now, Moxxie couldn't bring himself to speak badly about his father. The person who had locked up his “daughter”. What business did he have, trying to be a dad? He could barely stand up for himself. How would he stand up for her?

“I'm… sorry.”

His voice was weak. Unconvincing. She hated him. How couldn't she? He had dragged her into this. A child, forced into a dangerous situation that he had created. And worse, he had given her hope. Calling her his daughter… How cruel was he? Playing on her vulnerability so he could pretend to be a decent person.  

“I'm sorry…” His voice shook, his vision blurring. He was ready to cry. “S… Sorry.”

This was a bad idea. Not just this - this whole thing. Loona, Millie and Blitzø, everything. He had made everyone's lives marginally worse, just because he wanted to escape the family business. Like a spoiled, rebellious child.

He was tired. His body was tired. His mind was tired. Everything was tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of pretending to be something he wasn't. Tired of acting like this life could be sustained.

“Moxxie?”

Great. Now Loona would see this. The pup he had so cruelly given false hope. He forced a smile, daggers cutting at his throat. His body willed him to stay quiet.

“I'm… okay…” He managed to choke out, his voice monotonous and flat. Dead. That's what he was. A walking corpse. Or, perhaps a lifeless puppet, made to play at his father’s tune. Silly Moxxie - trying to clip his strings.  

The gray blob in front of him huffed quietly.

“Stop… lying!”

A pair of red circles shot up. He simply stared… numb.

“Fine! Be that way! I never needed you! I never asked for you!”

The blob turned around, retrieving a black… something, and slinging it over itself… no, Loona. His vision cleared. She grabbed his coat… and her drawing.

“You were lying earlier, why wouldn't you do it now… you were - were lying the whole time…”

Her voice took a sharp, sad turn, quiet trembles escaping her angered tone. She stepped in front of him, then to his side… he needed to do something. He could sort himself out later. Loona needed him now.

“So… just, don't-”

He grabbed her arm, pulling her closer. Loona dug a claw into his wrist, but he kept holding on. He needed to do this.

“I'm sorry!” Moxxie finally spoke. “You were right - I should've been there, I should've protected you! And I should've been there after! It's just- just-”

He faltered, but only for a moment. Moxxie took a deep breath, releasing her arm, only for his hands to move to her shoulders. She moved her hands close to her chest, his jacket and her drawing still clutched close.

“My… my dad is… he's not a good person. And - and maybe I'm not either. But, you, you are amazing, Loona. And - And I'd do anything to keep you safe… even if that means we don't spend as much time together. Working day and night to make sure my dad never comes back.”

She stared back at him as he spoke, her eyes wide. He knew how hard it was - to believe someone else when they say something like that. But, Moxxie hoped she knew that he meant it when he called her amazing.

“I didn't- I'm sorry I ignored you… I never want you to feel like you don't matter to me. You do, Loona. A lot.”

He wasn't sure why he jumped when she motioned to leave… his body reacted faster than his mind did. Moxxie cared for her… he thought he did, anyways. Maybe this was just self-preservation. What would he have to live for, if he lost Loona? A psychotic dad who wanted to control him, an almost empty apartment, only occupied in the brief periods when he wasn't slaving away at his job. What if he was lying to himself again?

“I… still don't believe you.” She spoke quietly. Her shoulders dropped, chin lowering. “You don't think of me like that.”

Seemed like she was having the same doubts. About him, and perhaps herself. Maybe she was like him - convinced she wouldn't amount to much. That she had been lying to herself to make things okay.

“I do, Loona.”

His hand shifted up, squeezing around her hand. 

“And… it's okay if you don't think of me as your dad. Or if you don't want to.”

It hurt to say, but he didn't want her to feel obligated to reciprocate. Considering how much she had been burned by supposed “parents”, it could be scary to have that thrust upon her. It was scary, even for Mox. An acknowledgement of his role in her life, as a father… not implied or spoken inwardly, but verbalized. Spoken aloud.

He felt like throwing up or crying, but he wasn't sure of the reasons why.

“I know it's a lot to process… and, and it's okay not to know what to do or say.” Moxxie spoke quietly. “Just know that I'm here, whenever you're ready and for whatever you need.”

“... Okay.” She spoke quietly. “I'm… gonna put this away.” Loona motioned downwards, for the bundled up jacket and her crumpled drawing. Moxxie nodded, letting go of her. As she turned, he took a long, quiet breath. It felt like the first he had taken in minutes.

“Have you been to sleep yet?”

“No,” She spoke as she sat his jacket down in the corner, trying her best to lay it flat on the floor. “I don't like to sleep alone, remember?”

“Of course.” How could Moxxie forget? His back certainly remembered the nights he spent sleeping against a cold brick wall beside her. Even with how busy Moxxie had been, he still slept near Loona. Either in the bed, or on the floor a few feet away from her.

“Well… I'm not going anywhere today,” Moxxie grunted, turning. His tail pushed against the door, the hinges creaking as he managed to shut it. “Let's try to catch up on some sleep. We both could use it.”

Loona nodded, wiping her eyes. She stepped over a bundle of pillows - the remnants of her pillow fort, which had fallen into disrepair ever since his dad visited. The hellhound climbed into the bed, laying on her side, with her legs and tail hanging off the side - another habit she had picked up since his father visited.

Moxxie took his usual position, at the foot of the bed. He reached towards the corner of the room, grabbing a pillow - being careful to make sure it wasn't one of the walls of the fort - and a thin blanket. It wasn't much, and was adorned with horses, like many of Blitzø's things, but it would do. Anything would do, for how tired he was. He sat a pillow on the floor, before laying down…

Already, he could feel himself starting to fall asleep.

“... Thank you, Moxxie.” Loona spoke quietly

“No problem, sweetie…” He mumbled quietly. “Sleep well… LooLoo.”

He heard her scoff at the nickname, eliciting a quiet, slow chuckle from him. It had been an… eye-opening evening - or morning, now. He was so focused on paying back his debt - on keeping Loona's future safe, that he had neglected to take care of her present. Sure, he kept her fed and clothed, but the pair hadn't spent a day together in quite a while - just them, no work, no pushy assholes at the diner, nothing to distract them. He needed to change that, soon. Mox just… needed to juggle work, life, taking care of himself and Loona, and pay back his father. It was a lot, but he'd need to learn to balance it.  

He refused to let Loona ever feel like she had tonight again.

Chapter Text

“So… You're gonna be twelve in… three weeks?”

“Yeah,” Loona replied, her head facing down towards one of her study guides. “And three weeks is… 21 days, right?”

“Right.” Moxxie smiled.  He hadn't expected her to be quite as old as she claimed to be. She was so small when he first came across her.  Granted, that was probably because she was… you know, homeless.  She had been growing quite a lot in the past few weeks.  Seemed like all that research into hellhound diets was worth it.

“What should we do for it?” Moxxie smiled, sitting down in the booth.  The diner hadn't been busy, per usual.  He felt much, much better after being asleep for… 16 hours yesterday.   After spending almost two days straight awake, he needed the extra sleep.  It seemed like it wouldn't matter at this point, anyways.  They had two days left to gather the cash… he just hoped Blitzø and Millie had found work.  He was starting to worry…

But, no.  That wasn't useful.  He needed to focus on the here and now.  The positives.  Like what he was going to do to make Loona's birthday special.  Granted… the diner probably wasn't the best place for it, but better here than never.  It was the afternoon, anyhow - place was dead anyways.  Millie had gone out for a supply run - they were low on bread for the morning.

“Do for what?”

“Your birthday.  Didn't think I was just gonna let your birthday go by without celebrating, would you?”

“I…” Loona stared down at the book for a moment, before turning back up to him.  “I don't know what you do for birthdays.”

Right… he should've known that.  Growing up in a pound, she wouldn't have gotten much of a chance to celebrate anything.  He'd just need to make this one particularly good.  Research what kind of cakes hellhounds can have, maybe take her to the park… they didn't exactly have much of a fund, but he'd make it work.

“Well… you get to have a cake, whatever you want to eat, and we can go someplace special, if you want.”

“Anything I want to eat…” She spoke.  Heh - that seemed to be what excited her the most, her tail wagging beneath the table.  “Steak?  I remember some of the bigger hounds at the pound getting them to eat.”

“I'll make sure you get the best steak on your birthday, LooLoo.” Moxxie smiled, rubbing his palm into the top of her head.  She turned away from him, back down towards her book.  The door swung open, the small bell on the handle ringing quietly.

“Hooof…” Blitzø grunted as he stepped in, with Millie right behind him.  The pair had spent the day searching for contracts - hitjobs.  Definitely not the cleanest work, but they needed cash, desperately.  From their reaction… they hadn’t had much luck.  He looked over his shoulder, catching Blitzø as he plopped down into a booth.  His tail hung limply off the edge of the booth, the heels of his boots sticking out of the booth.  Millie had positioned herself in front of the counter, planting her palms into the wood before hopping up, sitting down against the edge..

“Any luck?”

“Nope.” She spoke, huffing quietly as she reached back behind the counter.  Blindly, she grabbed onto the handle of a coffee pot - it had been brewed hours ago, but as tired as they seemed, they’d take it.  “Got laughed at a couple o’ times… ended up breakin’ the last guy’s arm.” She spoke, tipping the coffee pot over as she gulped down a few mouthfuls straight from the pot.

“It’s such bullshit!” Blitzø huffed, sitting up - his horns were only visible thanks to the height of his seat.  “How can you be picky about getting an assassin?!  They’ll hire any dipshit sinner with a gun, but imps aren’t good enough, apparently!” His heels tapped against the tiled floor, standing up from his seat.  “Even brought my flintlocks for this shit - they called my girls toys!  Had half a mind to stick the fucker up his ass and pull the tr-”

“So!” Moxxie quickly interrupted before Blitzø could finish.  He wasn’t too comfortable with Loona hearing them curse, but he drew the line at Blitzø’s, er… creative insults.  “Any ideas?”

Blitzø chuckled - a dry, angered laugh.  “Nah, we’re fucked Mox.  We got two days to get 40 grand to your dad.  Vee’s ghosted me, even the dumbest fucker in Hell won’t hire us for contract work, and even if we did get hired, any job we do get is gonna be risky as fuck to get that kinda cash.” 

He was right. Moxxie knew that before he even finished listing out exactly how fucked they were.  There was nothing else they could do, not really.

“... What happens now?”

Loona.  He turned back towards her… he didn’t know.  Her eyes were wide - she had heard everything, of course.  He could hear her tail swishing erratically against the floor.  She was nervous.

The next few days wouldn’t be pretty.  He needed to be prepared.   But....

“Well… let’s go to the park.  Just you and me.” Moxxie reached over, shutting the notebook.  He reached down towards her, holding out his hand to help her out of the booth.  

“Now?” Loona spoke, her brow furled as she looked up at him.

“Yes, now.  You’ve worked hard today, you deserve some time outside.” He smiled softly, doing his best not to let anything other than warmth and comfort seep outwards.  Moxxie… he didn’t feel panicky, or nervous.  There was a sense of dread in his head… but, he didn’t shut down.  Retreat into his shell, even if it would’ve felt much more comfortable there.  Maybe he knew this would always be the case.

“Uh, Mox? Shouldn’t we… y’know, start thinking of shit to do to get out of this mess?  Maybe looking at holes to hide in until this blows over?”

Moxxie kept quiet as he helped Loona down from the booth, holding onto her hand as he turned.

“There’s nothing else we can do.  Like you said.” He spoke as he stepped towards the pair of imps.  Millie’s eyes followed him, her gaze weighing hard on him.  There wasn’t a sense of anger, or disapproval… but, worry.  “My father isn’t the kind of person to forget… and, he’s got connections.  There’s no running from this.”

“You ain’t, uh… plannin’ on doin’ anything drastic, right Mox?” Millie spoke, an uncharacteristic amount of timidness in her tone.  Worried about even suggesting he’d do something stupid.

“We’ll be back at the apartment later, promise.  We’re not going anywhere.”

With that, pushed the door open, stepping out with Loona.  The bell rang as it swung back.  They turned, heading in the direction of the park.  It was a nice day… as nice as one could be in Hell, anyhow.  The clouds were only a slight gray, with the sun peeking out behind them.  Heavy, dark clouds loomed in the distance… it'd probably rain soon.  But, he needed to focus on the here and now.

“It's been a long time since we've gone to the park together.” Moxxie spoke, turning down towards her.

“Right before you left for that job.”

The same one that had gotten them into this mess.  He wished he had just left then and there.  Gotten out of the mob, just disappeared… Gluttony had a ton of hellhounds.  She’d have done great there - she would've been safe, instead of muzzled and thrown into a cage by his father.

“That's right.” He smiled, the pair walking at a steady pace.  “We’ll have to make this trip more often.”

“Yeah.” She spoke, smiling softly.  “That’d be fun.  Could we have my birthday there?”

Her birthday, three weeks away.  Twelve years old, and she's already had to deal with more than she deserved to.  He hoped he'd be able to see it… if that was even possible now.  Moxxie wasn't quite sure what he would do.

“Of course.” Moxxie smiled.  “With the biggest steak I can find.”

She snickered quietly, her pace quickening with excitement.  Her tail swished slightly… before she slowed.

“Moxxie… we’re gonna be okay, right?”

He didn't know.  More likely than not… no.  He’d either end up getting them all killed, or send them into hiding for the rest of their days.  There was no telling where his father would draw the line, when his bloodthirst and greed would be quenched.

“Of course, LooLoo.  You have nothing to worry about.”

Moxxie meant that… he'd do anything to make sure she got out of this safe.  That they all did.

“You promise?”

Blitzø, Millie, and her had done nothing wrong to deserve what was coming.  He was the one that had dragged them into this mess in the first place.  He'd do his best to make sure they got out of it unscathed.

“I promise.”

—

Moxxie smiled quietly as he stood next to Loona.  The pair had returned from the park some time ago… the hellhound pup was exhausted, but managed to fight sleep for some time.  He had helped her into the bed, stayed by her side til she fell asleep… he didn't want to move.  But, he had to.  A lump had formed in his throat… dread, pure and unbridled.  He watched her take slow breaths, her chest rising and falling…

He couldn't wait much longer.  His father would be expecting him any day now… if he was gonna be short, it was better to be early.  Slowly, he stepped back towards the door, being careful not to knock or hit anything.  He felt his back press against the door, his fingers wrapping around the knob.  Carefully, he pulled the door open, slipping through and shutting it quietly.  Millie and Blitzø were waiting for him, positioned at the kitchen counter.  An envelope sat on the counter in front of them - fat with the money they had saved up.

“... She sleeping?” Blitzø spoke.

“Yes.” He spoke, stepping towards the pair.  Part of him wanted to run back into the room… just curl up beside her.  To keep her safe, and to keep himself sane.

“So, any suggestions?  Mills and I were thinking running to Gluttony - plenty of hellhounds there, and I'm sure we can find some place cheap-”

“No.” He interrupted him in the middle of his next word, leaving his mouth agape - he hadn't been expecting that, he guessed.  It was stupid of Moxxie to think they’d be able to get out of this hole he had put them in.

“It's a good plan, Mox.  We can get a good place there-”

“No.” He said again, stepping towards them.  “You two aren't leaving everything behind because of me.  This is my mess, it was a bad idea to ask you two to help me clean it.”

He meant it, too.  This was never about money to his dad - not entirely, at least.  This was about control, over him and his life.  He had ran himself ragged for days on end, hoping to be able to crawl out of this situation… he should’ve known better.

“Hey, don't start talkin’ like that.” Millie stepped forwards.  “This is somethin’ we all gotta deal with.”

“No, it's not.” Moxxie grabbed the envelope off the counter, taking out the wad of cash.  Quickly, he flicked through the bills, taking out a couple thousand.

“Mox… you're making me nervous, here.  That should tell you you're about to fuck up.” Blitzø spoke, stepping towards him.  “Just… put that shit back, and let's talk this through.”

“There's nothing to talk about.” He sat down the cash he had separated onto the counter.  “I'm not letting you two pay for my mistake.  I'm taking what’s left to my dad.”

“Are you fucking crazy?!”

“He’ll kill you!” Millie went to grab his wrist - he quickly pulled back.  Knowing her, she'd latch on and wouldn't let him leave.

“He won't - I'll have to work with him til I pay off my debt, that's all that'll happen.” He spoke, trying to keep his voice confident, assured.  His knees felt like jelly - it took all he had in him to not tremble at the thought of going back to him… but, he had no choice.

“This isn't how we should do this, Mox!” Blitzø stepped towards him.  “We’ll find another way.  I'll think of something - just, not this.”

“It's not up to you anymore.” He spoke, his voice monotonous.  Quickly, he stepped past the couch, towards the door.  He needed to get away from the pair - he was a ball of anxiety and nerves, and he wanted this to be over already.

“Mox!” Blitzø shouted, trying to call him back - away from the door.

Millie stepped towards him, trying to follow.

“I ain't lettin’ you do this, not alone.” She spoke, stepping past the couch. 

“No!” He finally snapped, turning back towards them.  “You two need to be here.  If this does go badly… if you don't hear from me, you need to take Loona and go.”

The pair stood… staring.  Blitzø’s eyes stared holes into him, his gaze intense… while Millie’s was softer, more sympathetic.

“If something happens to her… if something happens to you two, I wouldn't be able to live with myself.  This is my responsibility, and knowing my dad… he's not gonna be happy.” He took a shuddering, slow breath.  Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. “That's why you two need to be here.  I need people to be there for her if this goes badly.”

They… kept silent.  Staring at him.

“So… please, let me do this.”

Again… silence.  For a few moments, before Blitzø sighed. 

“This is the stupidest shit I've ever fucking heard.” He pinched his brow, turning back towards the counter.  “Fine, go.  Get yourself killed so you won't have to deal with shit.  Don't care… I need to get shitfaced.”

Blitzø reached over the counter, blindly searching for a bottle of booze.  Millie glanced back towards him, before turning to Moxxie.  She stepped towards him.

“You're absolutely sure about this?”

“Yes.” He spoke without hesitation.  She sighed quietly, reaching out for his hand.  Millie took his hand into hers, squeezing it tightly.

“Okay… just, get out as soon as you can.” She turned up towards him.  “And you come back to us in one piece, ‘kay?  We need you.  Loona needs you.”

Moxxie smiled… softly, sadly.  This was going to hurt.  A lot.  It already felt like he was cutting off his arm… but he needed to do this.  Before things got bad.

“Promise.”

“Okay…” Millie sighed.  She pulled him into a quick hug, her chin pressed against his shoulder.  “Stay safe, Mox.  I hope we'll see each other again soon.”

He nodded, his vision blurring.  Tears welled in his eyes as she pulled back, letting him go.  As soon as he was able, he twisted the door knob, stepping out quickly.  He only managed to get a few steps down the stairs before a sob escaped his lips.  His fingers clamped down around his mouth, trying his best to muffle them as he kept walking.  Tears rolled down his cheeks, harsh, jagged breaths forcing themselves through his body as he made it down to the street.  This hurt, badly… but, it needed to be done.

Moxxie just hoped he'd be in one piece when this was over.  And that Millie, Blitzø, and Loona would make it out of this spared from any consequences.

Chapter Text

Rain dripped from Moxxie’s horns, landing on his father’s floor. He was soaked, his clothes damp and cold, the envelope soaked through. Those dark clouds he had spotted at the park had come sooner than he expected. His phone, and the soaked remnants of the envelope, sat on his father’s desk. Rain pelted against the window. His tail coiled tightly around his leg as he watched his father count through the bills… his face was as still and emotionless as a stone wall.  

Nervously, he picked at the hem of his sweater. Another mistake he had made before coming - he didn't bring his suit, not even his father's old jacket. He was worried that he might wake Loona if he rummaged around the room looking for his suit. And, if things went wrong… she'd at least have something to remember him by. The jacket he'd given her the first night he stayed with her, when he left for the heist and came back. It felt important to her, so he wanted her to have it just in case.

His father shuffled through the soaked bills, his face still blank. It gave away… Nothing. No emotion. Alessio stood beside him, staring a hole into him. Moxxie kept his eyes on the floor, trying to stay still. Hoping that he'd just… disappear. He was tense, on edge. Waiting for his dad to say something, do something. They had been just… waiting. Quiet. Too quiet.

“F… Father, I-I know it isn't everything, but-”

“Shuddup.” His father snapped, making Moxxie jump, his chin lowering. Finally, he turned upwards, staring at Moxxie. Right in the eyes… no fear, no anger. Just contempt. Disgust.

“I told you we needed that cash. I gave you a chance to prove yourself. I hoped that you would need to step up, for once, and take responsibility.”

A lump had formed in his throat, making it hard to breathe. Hard to swallow.

“And you… instead of mannin’ up, decided to keep livin’ in that fantasy of yours. In that shit apartment, with your beard, the third wheel, and a mutt.”

His father planted his hand into his desk, fingertips and nails boring into his wooden desk. He swiped his arm across the desk, sending the wad of cash flying into the wall, along with the envelope and Moxxie’s phone. The cheap, small phone nearly shattered against the wall, glass chips from the screen flying into the air as it tumbled onto the ground. His chair squeaked as he stood up, staring down at Moxxie. He was paralyzed… unable to speak. Unable to move. 

“You're a disgrace, Moxxie. A fuckin’ embarrassment to my name. The name I built from the dirt.” He hissed, stepping past the table, nearly pushing Ale to the side in his hurry to approach Moxxie.

“D-Dad, please -”

A hard slap landed across his face, stinging and hot.

“You wanna embarrass me? You're gonna pay for it. And if you ain't got the cash, then you're gonna pay for it my way.”

His father snapped his fingers. Ale stepped past him, grabbing Moxxie by his collar and dragging him out of the room. The heels of his shoes squeaked as he reached back, grabbing onto Alessio’s hand.

“D - Dad, wait!” He called out, trying to plant himself, to keep Ale from dragging him out. His hand scrambled towards the door frame, latching onto its edge as he grunted. “I - I’ll work - I'll do whatever you want, just-”

His father growled, stepping back and planting his boot into Moxxie’s hand. He felt the bones in his hand crack as he lost his grip. He yelped, huffing quietly as he was pulled out of the office. His fingers felt numb, a throbbing, searing pain shooting up his wrist.

“Dad - just -”

Without much warning, Alessio stopped, thrusting him forwards. Moxxie nearly tripped as he was forced into the main room. If this were at the apartment, or even just a few months ago, he'd have been caught. Instead, he fell to the floor, his head colliding painfully with the hardwood.

“Go on, show ‘im!” His father commander as Moxxie lifted his head… fuck. Five or six of his top men, not including Alessio. He was cornered - trapped between them, the wall, and the couch. Moxxie scrambled, trying to get past them - too slow. He received a kick to the chin for that… they started stomping on him. His ribs, arms, legs, horns, tail…

He was hurting. Everywhere. Pain. He wanted to stop them. A hand wrapped around his horn, tugging his head up as one of them punched him in the nose. Blood poured out of his nostrils, coating the back of his throat in a thick, metallic taste. He wanted this to stop… he knew it wouldn't. Needed to think of something else.

Loona. Millie. Even Blitzø. They'd be safe. His dad would get what he wanted. He needed to hold onto that. 

Another smack to the back of his head, and he felt his consciousness start to slip away…

He couldn't remember where he was. Why his body hurt so much. Why they had attacked him. But he remembered one thing.

Loona… She was safe. That was all that mattered.

—

Long, wheezing breaths forced their way through Moxxie. His lungs crackled with each rise of his chest, accompanied by a stabbing pain in his side. He was sore, in pain… battered and bruised all over. His tail throbbed, one of his attackers having stomped over the spaded tip and between the pair of black rings near its base. He could only keep an eye cracked open. The other had swollen shut, after he had received a kick to the face. Dried blood clung to his chin and nose, and even the top of his head aches from the abuse they had dealt to his horns.

His breaths were slow, measured by how much pain he could handle… each one was a battle, it felt like. That stabbing pain shot down his side if he breathed too deeply. His head bobbed slightly, struggling to stay up and awake.

“He awake?” His father spoke, his voice ringing in his ears. A pair of rough hands scooped him up off the floor, dragging him past the couch. He looked up… they had dragged him outside, cold rain soaking into his torn sweater. A pair of gray blurs stood over him, with a red one standing in the middle. A low, quiet groan escaped him. Movement was painful… even the act of lifting his hand felt herculean. He felt the same boot press under his side, right where his pain was localized, before shoving, forcing him onto his back. Rain collided with his face, cold and harsh.

“Ya with me, son?”

His father's voice… he was in pain. Everything was painful. His legs, arms, tail, horns… all of it was painful. He wanted it to stop. He knew it wouldn’t… it would only get worse if he didn’t comply.

Slowly, Moxxie nodded.

“Y… yes, sir.” His voice cracked and broke as he forced himself to speak.

The heel pulled back. He felt his father’s fingers wrap around his horn, painfully tugging upwards. Forcing his head up. His head ached, his back screaming in agony as he was forced to sit up.

“Until you pay off every last cent… you're stayin’ with me. I own you, and you're gonna do exactly what I say if you want that mutt of yours to grow up. Understand?”

“Yes.” He spoke in a whisper, his voice cracking as his body struggled to keep up. His father’s hand quickly pulled away, allowing Moxxie to fall limply against the concrete. 

“Glad we could come to an understandin’. Ya don’t abandon your family, Moxxie. Ya sure as shit don’t leave them 50k in the hole.” 

Bile and a metallic taste clung to the back of his throat. It was like a nightmare - he had dreaded this moment from the day he got out. He knew he wouldn’t be free for long.

“Show ‘im to his room, boys.”

A pair of arms hooked under his own, forcing him onto his feet… he couldn’t even stand properly right now. They practically dragged him back inside. His legs felt like they were going to eject at any second, especially when he tried to put weight on them.

“You start tomorrow!” His father called as he was dragged away. They dragged him into the hallway, heading towards the very end, before turning to the right. The door to his room squeaked open. Callously, the pair tossed him in. He collided with the foot of his bed, his chin smacking against the floor.  

“Got our eyes on you, traitor.” One of them said… he wasn’t sure exactly who - everything was blurry. One of his eyes was swollen nearly shut. A pair of items were tossed in after him - his phone and wallet, before they slammed the door shut. He heard a click - they had a lock on it from the outside. Of course…

He just… laid there for a while. Taking long, slow, painful breaths. Everything felt bruised - some things felt broken. His knee was throbbing, and there was a throbbing pain in his side. This had been a bad idea… he never should’ve left. He should’ve just let Loona take his wallet that night. She didn’t deserve this - and she didn’t deserve the pain he knew this was gonna bring her. At… At least she had good people around her. Blitzø and Millie would take care of her until he came back. If he came back… he needed to let them know.  

He had already left Loona in the middle of the night. Moxxie wasn’t gonna let her suffer like he had - not knowing why he had done what he did. His hand trembled as he blindly searched for his phone. He managed to grab onto it, lifting it up to his eyes - or his good eye, rather. The screen had been cracked badly, almost shattered, but it still worked. His fingers trembled as he struggled to type in his PIN.

Finally, after far too long, and many failed attempts, he managed to unlock his phone. His arm trembled, his elbow burning from the simple act of holding his phone up. He went to his messages, finding Millie. Slowly, painstakingly, he typed. His fingers trembled, feeling his thumb pop from the dexterity required to type properly.

“im ok” He managed to send, before slowly typing the rest. “keep loona sfe 4 me. tel her ill b bak evntuly. sry 4 th truble”

He hit send, before the phone slipped from his fingers. His body trembled against the cold floor, his skin soaked from the rain. Moxxie laid his hand against the floor, his cheek pressing into the floorboard, his eyes closing as his consciousness left him.

Chapter Text

Rain. Heavy, humid, and cold. It soaked into Moxxie’s skin, making his bones ache. The world was… gray. Like Hell had froze over, his surroundings were a mix of grays, blacks, and whites. There was no color. His stomach hurt, along with the rest of his body. His right eye was swollen, the red skin around it turned black from the beating he had taken the day prior. Breathing was hard - there was a pressure in his right side that stabbed him whenever he took too deep a breath. His knee was stiff, hard to move. Even his tail was in pain, its base throbbing with any sort of flick or movement.

He had been walking for… a while now. His old route. He… remembered going through the motions. Stopping at the laundromat, then the dry cleaner, a few grocers… he couldn’t really recall how they went exactly. Only that he hadn’t had much trouble with them. Not that it mattered. He was still doing the same thing he had before. Intimidating and scaring others into paying up. Like the horrible person he was. The last couple of days had been a blur, but he knew that much.

That he was an awful person.

He didn't deserve Loona. He never had. What had he been thinking, taking her in? She would've been better off without him. She'd have never had her life threatened. Never been thrown in a cage and muzzled. Never felt the pain of losing a parent.

He was just like his mom.

No, worse. Just like his dad. Only someone cold and cruel could put a kid through that. 

And the worse part?

He didn't feel anything. He couldn't feel anything, except for pain. Moxxie was like a robot - a drone, going from task to task without any emotion. He should be angry… furious that he was put in this place. Angry at Chaz for taking the cash and leaving him to deal with the consequences. Angry at himself for putting himself and Loona in such a shit situation. Angry at his father for refusing to relinquish any control over him.

He should've felt sad… he missed Loona. It felt like his heart had taken a beating, too. Between the glimpses of his day he could gleam, he could feel tears welling in his eyes. Worried about Loona - if she was okay, how she was taking his absence, what she had been doing. Sad, because he knew she would suffer in his absence. Upset, because there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it.

But… mostly, he felt numb.

Numb and empty. A husk, a shell of himself. And he deserved to feel that way, too…

He needed to get back to the compound soon. The last thing he needed was his dad to think he was running-

“Heyyy, Mox.”

A pair of arms grabbed him from behind, one taking his horn. He grunted, forced to step forward - forced to face forward. The voice was familiar - one of his father's men. He - he didn't know who exactly. The crew had changed a bit since he had been there.

“Wh - What do you want?”

“We’re just gonna have a chat, that's all…” The voice was thick, deep - malicious. He was forced forwards, down the street, until they found an alleyway. The monster tossed him into it, kicking him on the ass as he stumbled forwards. His knee gave out, sending him to the ground. All that pain was reignited, doubled - aches, pains, all of it was back in full force. The alley was narrow, with its only exit currently blocked by his attacker. The other end was fenced off - he wasn't sure he could scale it with how banged up he was.

“See, I got stuck with you’se on this shit route.” He spoke, while Moxxie tried to get onto his back. “Stuck with a fuckin homo… you're fuckin’ sick, you know that?”

He grunted as he pushed up, leaning against the wall. His side ached, his vision blurred as he looked up. He couldn't see well… but he heard a click.

The hammer of a revolver, being drawn back.

“W - Wait,” He huffed, stumbling back. “What do you want?! Just - just don't-”

The larger demon drew back - a shark demon, like many of his father's crew. He planted the tip of his shoe into Moxxie’s chin, kicking him hard on the jaw. His ears rang as his head collided with the cold dirt… cold metal pressed against his temple.

This was it. He was gonna die.

“The only reason I don't kill ya is because of your dad, and the respect I have for him.” He hissed, his voice a whisper. “But I'm gonna make you wish I had, fucker. Your kind don't belong in this kinda business.”

Moxxie trembled, an audible whimper escaping him. He was terrified… he didn't wanna die. Not without seeing Loona, making things right. Even if he said he wouldn't kill him, that could change. He let him go through his pockets, grabbing onto his wallet.

“So, for putting up with ya, you're gonna start payin’ me to not knock the teeth out your fuckin’ mouth. And if you say anything to your pops… I'll pay that fake family o’ yours a visit. Got it?”

“Yes, yes -” Moxxie trembled, his voice shaking. “I-I won't say a word!”

He snickered - his breath stank of booze and cigarettes. The revolver pulled back, his wallet dropped beside him.  

“See ya tomorrow… freak.”

He heard him walk away… but, Moxxie still laid there. Hands over his head, trembling in fear. His chest was tight, his throat dry. Rain pooled against his sides… fuck. Tears started to roll down his cheeks, sobs escaping him. As if his situation wasn't already bad. Being himself wasn't something the mob was gonna accept. There was nothing he could do now - especially since his dad had shown off pictures of him and Chaz…

Why had he ever left Loona? He just wanted to keep her safe - even if it meant being away from her. Moxxie didn't regret his decision, but… he wished there had been another way. He missed her, so badly. Missed watching her draw, seeing her face light up when he came home from work, hearing her talk about her fort… he missed her so much, it hurt. But, he couldn't go back. Not now.

Eventually, the flow of his tears stopped. His fear and sadness was replaced by that same numbness. He grabbed onto the wall, pushing himself up onto his feet. Mox did his best to brush the dirt and mud off his suit… and walked out of the alleyway. Heading back to the compound. He couldn't run away, not now. Not for a long while yet.  So... He became a husk, yet again.  He had no choice.

He was trapped. No way out. Stuck in his own personal Hell.

Chapter Text

Wake up, get dressed, go on his route, come home, go to sleep. Eat a bite or two, if he could manage to keep it down. That had been his process for… two weeks now, he thought. Between being assaulted and threatened, of course. Time had become harder to keep a hold of. His hair was dirty, messy. Scabs had formed around his eye and on his chin. His stomach still throbbed with pain whenever he moved too suddenly, and his knees still felt weak. Physically, he was improving.

That counted for something, he guessed. His fingers found their way to his shoes, tying them before his body stood up. He… wasn't an active participant in this. It was automatic, autonomous. His fingers latched onto his coat jacket, slung lazily over the doorknob, sliding an arm in one sleeve at a time. The heels of his shoes tapped against the floor as he stepped out into the hallway. A few of his father's men were on the couches… gray and red blobs.

“Hey, homo!” One of them shouted as he stepped by - Marco, he had learned the name after he threatened his life last week. “Don't forget about my fee!”

The figure beside him snickered. He had already paid him twice, or three times, already this week. It was hard to remember - days had started to blend together, each feeling like they were a part of some long, torturous game he was forced through. It wasn't like it mattered, anyways. He was being bled dry, physically, emotionally, and financially. The shark demon had gone out of his way to make his life harder. He had tried to collect one day during the morning, knowing fully that he had no cash to give him. It was just another excuse to beat him. While his right eye had healed, his left was now blackened. “I gave ya a matchin’ pair”, he put it. He had harassed him, interrupted his collections, literally kicked him while he was down… and there was nothing he could do about it.

His father refused to speak to him, outside of when it was time for him to pay up. He barely even looked at him - too disgusted by his failure of a son. Any insubordination or resistance would just put his friends in danger. Put Loona in danger. He couldn't risk that.

Just another way they were bleeding him dry. Another thing to remind him of how gray his world had become. He stepped out into the dark, gray street. It wasn't raining today… but it still felt cold. Everything was cold. People like him didn't deserve warmth. Pieces of shit, who hurt other people, don't deserve to feel good about themselves.

He crossed the street, heading towards the end of the road to start his route for the day.

“Moxxie…?”

… A whisper. A familiar voice. Head down, keep walking. It was nothing - nothing good, anyways. Probably Marco trying to collect early again. Another excuse to beat him up.

“Mox - slow down.”

The voice warbled… light. There was… an accent. Not the fake Italian some of the men put on to impress his father. It was… something else.

“Mox,”

A hand grabbed onto his shoulder. He flinched, stumbling back into an alleyway. He had been followed - his father’s men would beat him. His hands went up, flinching back as he fell. Numbness had been replaced by fear. Intense, consuming, paralyzing fear.

“I - I don't have anything yet!” He shouted, closing his eyes as he prepared for whatever they had. “Please - just let me -”

A pair of hands latched onto his fingers, softly - his arms flailed, legs shuffling him backwards, deeper into the alley. His head turned upwards, the world turning upside down as he tried to look for an exit. The alley narrowed, with a tall chain link fence at its end. He wouldn't be able to climb it - not in his state.

“Mox! Stop, it's me!”

“I - I’ll pay whatever you want, just-”

“Moxxie!”

The hands moved up to his shoulders, picking him up and pressing him against the wall.

“It's Millie!”

Like a light switch… he was back. Back to feeling. Back to seeing - it really was her. She knelt down in front of him. Her hair was tied in a small ponytail, and she had worn a thick hoodie, but… it was her. His heart was pounding, breathing quick and shallow. 

“M - Millie?” He felt happy to see her, at least at first… before that same fear came back. “You - you can't be here. If my dad finds out I even saw you, he’ll hurt you - hurt Loona and Blitzø.”

She looked down at him… her mouth ajar, brows raised. Millie looked shocked… her fingers slid up to his chin. “Satan, Mox…” She felt the rough, patchy scab that had formed. Her eyes wandered across his face, seeing the bruises, the cuts that had accumulated over the last two weeks.

“Are you okay?”

“Don't worry about me - Loona-”

“Loona’s fine, Mox.” She knelt down, grabbing. “They aren't gonna get her, trust me. I came to get you.”

“Wh- What? No, I-I can't.”

His hands trembled - his whole body shook. He was terrified to do - do anything.

“My dad - he-he’ll find me again, and he’ll -” A shuddering gasp ripped through him, tears welling in his eyes. “He'll hurt you - h-hurt Loona, Blitzø - I've already done enough - enough damage. Just - just leave!”

“Yeah, that ain't happenin’. Blitzø's got a plan - but we need you.”

“You - you don't, I'm not useful. Not like this, not at all.” Moxxie trembled, pulling his knees up to his chest. He hugged himself - his tail coiled tightly around his leg. “I got us into this mess in the first place. Y - You and Blitzø should take Loona and go… I can't leave here…” His form trembled.  

“Moxxie…”

Millie glanced over her shoulder, making sure the pair hadn't been followed. She peeked out the alleyway, before turning back to him. He was a burden to them - always had been, always would be. She needed to leave - and fast, before they got spotted together. It wouldn't end well for them if even one person saw them together.

Quickly, Millie stepped out the alley. Good… she needed to run. Before she got trapped here too. His vision blurred… he needed to suck it back up. Bury that emotion again. He couldn't survive here with such a weakness. His fingers dug into his skin, biting down on his lip. Trying to stop his trembling, to pull himself away from the edge of panic… breathe, breathe…

He barely noticed the creaking and squeaking of a wheel approaching him. Moxxie only lifted his head when he saw Millie. She was pulling a dumpster - stolen from a nearby business, no doubt. The small imp grunted as she pulled it into the alleyway, stepping back towards him as she pulled it into the small, narrow space as much as she could. Metal hissed as it scratched against the brick walls, before she stopped.

“There…” She huffed. Millie bent down, locking the wheels closest to her. “Just you and me now, Mox. Gonna take a lot to get that thing outta the way.”

She stood up, turning and stepping back towards him. Why had she come back? She needed to go!

“They'll still find us… it isn't safe…”

Millie smiled softly, kindly. “We got a way out, Mox. I'll throw ya over the fence if I have to.” She motioned towards the fence. They'd still find them - they'd hurt her, then Blitzø, then Loona - like his father said.

His fingers curled tightly against his legs, pulling closer. He turned away from her - showing her his good eye, and trying to tuck his chin someplace Millie wouldn't see. Moxxie didn't want her to get a good look at him… he knew he looked bad.

“I… I meant to come back, I really did.” Moxxie started, keeping his eyes pointed away from her. “I - I was gonna leave, try to get away after I dropped it off, but - but there was nowhere for me to go once I was in the house.”

“I can guess what happened from there.”

How couldn't she? She had already gotten a look at his face, and she had experienced what his father would do before.

“Can… Can I get a look at you?”

Moxxie tensed up, the coiling of his tail reaching a high point. He could feel the pressure in his leg starting to become painful, the gentle motions of the tip becoming more erratic. There wasn't anything good that would happen by her seeing him. He looked like shit, scabs on his chin and around his eyes, a barely healed cut on his cheek, and his lower lip split. The rest of him wasn't much better - his knees hurt, along with his side and back. His ribs ached with each breath he took.

“You won't like what you see…”

“I ain't gonna judge, just - from what I saw, it wasn't…” She trailed away. Cutting her sentence short - probably to spare his feelings. “I need to make sure you ain't too hurt.”

Probably to check if he was even up to the task she had for him, whatever it was. Maybe he'd luck out. She'd realize just how fucking pathetic he was, and leave him. Knowing Millie, though, that wasn't likely.

“Fine.” He mumbled, shifting to face her. With his arms still wrapped around his knees, he lifted his head, turning to look her in the eyes. Her jaw unhinged itself, a quiet gasp escaping her. 

“Christ, Moxxie…” She stared at him, her eyes wide. Her eyes displayed a wide variety of emotions, too quick for him to pinpoint more than a couple. Shock first, then sadness… and finally, anger. She bared her teeth, a quiet growl bellowing up from her chest.

“Those pieces of shit…!" Millie growled. "Shoulda dismembered those fuckers and buried them in some landfill the second they broke into the apartment!” She hissed, grabbing onto the brick wall. Her fingers latched around one misaligned brick, sticking out of the wall. “Buried my axe into that big shark demon’s fuckin’ forehead, slash their necks, stab them, choke the life-”

The brick strained against her grip, before part of it broke off from the strain. Moxxie flinched as pieces shot out around her fingers, the brick crushed with relative ease. She glanced at her hand, then to him.

“Fuck, sorry - just…” She huffed, her fingers pulling away from her palm, with the dusty, red remnants of the brick spilling out between her fingers. “You don't deserve this shit! None of it!

He did.

“You didn't even get that cash!”

He hadn't.

“It's just… so unfair!”

She balled her fingers up into a fist, her arm trembling as she buried it in the dirt.

“Why didn't you try to tell us?! If we'd’ve known, Blitzø and I woulda came for you sooner!”

He turned away, back towards the ground. His fingers dug into the sides of his knees.

“You… you don't know what my father’s capable of. At least - at least if it was just me, then it wouldn't hurt you three.”

A silence came over them, but only for a brief moment. Millie sighed quietly, taking a quick, calming breath, before she moved closer to him.

“We wanted to come here, the entire time - we weren't abandonin’ you. I wanted to run ‘n stop you when you left, but Blitzø knew that wasn't a good idea.” Millie spoke. He didn't doubt that… he was glad they showed restraint. Thank Satan Blitzø stopped her. “But, with Loona bein’ so young, we couldn't let her come with us. And with who knows how many people watchin’ us, I was afraid to leave her alone.”

Loona…

“H… how…” Moxxie’s voice trailed away. He was afraid to ask, afraid to hear what she might say.

“How is she?”

Again, silence. He felt bile tickling at the back of his throat, his anxiety filling out his stomach as Millie chose her next words carefully.

“She… ain't be doin’ good, Moxxie.” She spoke after too long a pause. “She misses you, a lot. The first day, she thought you might be workin’, but she picked up on what was happenin’ pretty quick. It… it hasn't been pretty, Mox.”

Moxxie thought he had experienced a lot of pain these past few weeks, but hearing how badly Loona was doing was a new kind of her. One that punched him in the chest, made it hard to breathe. His throat dried up, a cold chill running down his spine.

“Blitzø ‘n her fought for the first few days, and she's been tryin’ to break out of the apartment to go lookin’ for you. We've done the best we can to take care of her, but she's worried sick about you, Mox.” He felt her hand touch his shoulder, her warmth seeping into his cold shell of a body. “We all were.”

His chest trembled, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. It was too painful - Moxxie turned, burying his head into his knees. A quiet, sorrowful sob escaped between his shaky breaths, all while Millie rubbed his shoulder.

“I'm an awful dad…” Moxxie managed to stutter out, his fingernails stabbing into his legs.

“Please, don't say that...”

“I - I left her… again… I wanted to pro - protect her.”

“I know…”

He could feel his tears soaking into his pants leg, shuddering breaths escaping him.

“You ain't an awful dad, Mox.  Known you long enough to see that.” Millie scooted closer, her hand gently holding onto his hand. She squeezed around his fingers, gently. He quickly latched onto the sole source of comfort he had available to him, squeezing back, tightly.

“How?” He mumbled. “She - She was better off without me…”

“Better off -” She repeated - her tone of voice rising, like she was somehow shocked at the simple fact of the matter.

“Moxxie, you saved her.”

Millie shifted, scooting in front of him. She held onto both his hands, staring down at him. His eyes peeked out between his knees, locking onto hers.

“You picked her up off the street ‘n took care of her. A little girl you barely knew, who had no one else there for her. A lot of people would've just left her, but you stayed.” She spoke passionately, squeezing his fingers tightly. The sensation was comforting - keeping him grounded. “You might’ve messed up every now and again, but you didn't give up on her. I've been around long enough to see how much you care about her - and how much she cares about you. You're a great dad, Mox. And she needs you, as much as you need her.”

Millie’s hands shifted upwards, onto his shoulders… he could feel more tears swelling in his eyes. He wanted to believe her… he really did. His head rose up, meeting her gaze. Part of him did, but the rest of him…

“I… I don't know… if I'm a good dad…” He spoke through shuddering breaths. “But… I want to go help her.”

“Then come with me, Moxxie.” Millie stood up, offering him a hand. “Blitzø’s found a way to pay off the rest of the debt, but we can't do it without you. You can go home, back to Loona.”

Back to Loona… back to some level of normalcy. After two weeks of this - this torture, Moxxie thought it was too good to be true. Part of him didn't believe it - that this would just be a failure, like their last attempt. But, he had to try. If not for himself, then for Loona. His tail quickly unlaced itself from around his leg, pressing his hand against the rough brick wall as he stood up. Millie smiled softly, holding out her hand for him, just in case he needed it to stand.

“Thank you, for takin’ a chance on this.”

“I - I should be thanking you, for giving me a chance to see Loona again.”

He grunted as he finally managed to push himself off the wall.  

“Where are we meeting Blitzø-”

Moxxie jumped as he heard tires screech next to him, before a van came to a halt on the other side of the fence. The window rolled down.

“Finally! You don't know how long it took me to squeeze this baby into this alley! I wish I slept with succubi as tight as this damn alley!”

Well… there was Blitzø, his head sticking out the front window.  

“How did he…”

“I mighta called him and told him where we were when I went and got the dumpster.” She admitted, grinning sheepishly as she stepped towards the fence. “We weren't gonna leave you here, Mox, no matter what.”

“Hey, Mox!” Blitzø waved. “You look like shit!”

Yep, that was Blitzø. Moxxie almost missed his jabs at him - they were a lot less hurtful than the ones in the mob, more playful. Millie reached towards the bottom of the fence, jerking upwards. A few of the cuffs holding the fencing to its poles popped. Millie grunted as she pulled it as high as she could manage, more than enough space for him to crawl under.

“C’mon! We got work to do, Mox!” Blitzø shouted, bouncing in his seat. Moxxie quickly did as he was told - he ducked under the fence, stepping out to the other side. Millie quickly followed him. The rest of the van came into view. There was new paint on the rear door, crudely written on both the body and the window.  

“I.M.P…?”

“Immediate Murder Professionals!” Blitzø screeched proudly, poking out his chest. “That was my idea for the name of our new assassination agency! Oh, by the way, you're already hired as my new sharpshooter!”

An assassination agency?

“Who would hire a bunch of imps for a hit?” Moxxie questioned, stepping forwards. He was a bit pessimistic - sinners were mostly used as assassins in Hell, for obvious reasons. Imps couldn't really compare to sinners - their deaths were permanent, and they didn't have nearly the status or resources that gave them an advantage over sinners. They weren't nearly as strong as sinners. Why pay three imps to do the work a sinner could for a fraction of the cost, time, and effort?

“Ah, ah- that's where we're different from the competition.” Blitzø turned away, before quickly looking back at him, holding up some sort of… book. It was blue, with inlaid gold designs wrapping around the spine and cover. The pages looked golden, with a thick, red gem in the spine. “We're gonna be using this. Get in, I'll explain while we go pick up some gear. Besides, you got someone-”

Before Blitzø could finish, the rear door slid open, a gray blur pouncing on him, nearly tackling him.

“Don't ever scare me like that again, you asshole!”

Loona wrapped her arms around him, her chin pressing into his shoulder. He hugged her tightly - his arms barely fit around her. She had grown a little in the time he had been away - she was bending down just a bit to hold onto him.

“I missed you so much…” He spoke, holding onto her for dear life. His voice trembled - he really didn't wanna cry again, his eyes were already puffy, but he could feel tears threatening to prick at the corners of his eyes. “I'm so sorry I left you. I-I didn't wanna scare you, or hurt you again… I thought it'd be better if I just left. Please - please forgive me.”

He could feel her chest trembling, quiet whines being barely suppressed. Her claws poked against his back, holding him tightly - like she was afraid he'd disappear again.

“I - I was afraid I wouldn't see you again.” She whimpered, a whine leaking out of her lips. “Promise you won't do that again, leave like that.”

“I promise.” He gently rubbed her back. Moxxie could feel how bad she was hurting… he needed to make it up to her. “Never again.”

A shuddering breath escaped Loona, followed by a quick gasp. Her form relaxed - it was like she had been holding her breath for a long time.  The pair just... Stood there.  Holding each other, Moxxie trying his best to soothe her, holding her tightly, while Loona held onto him like he'd disappear if she let go.  She never deserved this, to feel this way.

“Look, touching reunion, you two.” Blitzø spoke, leaning into Moxxie's line of sight. Millie had climbed into the passenger seat, a big, wide smile on her face, her eyes as bright and happy as her smile. They had been watching the whole time… guess he shouldn't have been surprised - they were just right there. “But we got work to do, and not a lot of time to do it. We gotta get moving.”

Loona sighed quietly, before she let go.

“Right.” Moxxie huffed quietly, motioning Loona forwards. She turned, hopping back into the van, and scooting to the other side of the seat. Moxxie jumped in behind her, pulling the door shut.

“What, um… exactly is the plan, sir?”

Blitzø glanced behind him, smirking.

“This badass book,” He held up the tome again, the light reflecting off the golden designs. “Is the key to our business, Mox. Instead of picking fights with sinners down here, we're taking hits from sinners on people who're still living. We're gonna kill targets in the mortal world, Mox.”

… What?