Archive of Our Own ^beta

It wasn’t until the quiet moments of the night, when Stolas was already fast asleep on that shitty, too small couch—he really needed to get something bigger for the bird, maybe he should start looking at a new apartment—that Blitz let himself acknowledge the emotions bubbling in his chest throughout the day.

It was getting easier for the most part. Stolas was struggling, but he had started to take his meds again. He was eating at least one meal a day, two on a good day. Sometimes Blitz could even drag him out onto the balcony—or even I.M.P if he was really lucky—to get some fresh air. He smiled a bit easier, although it never quite reached his eyes. Blitz had made it his personal goal to make the bird laugh at least once a day; most days, he found himself able to. Every time he heard that gentle, hooting rumble, he felt his heart doing backflips in his chest.

Was this what falling in love felt like?

He was beginning to realize that maybe he didn’t hate it.

Some days were hard, still. Some days, Stolas couldn’t get off the couch or keep food down; some days, all he could do was cry and scream until he fell asleep again. On those days, Blitz would simply gather him up in his arms and hold him, kissing the tears of his pretty feathers until he calmed; never allowing his own tears to fall until the former prince was asleep. 

Blitz knew what it was like to be in Stolas’ shoes. He knew what it was like to lose everything. He knew exactly what he was going through. Yet, that didn’t make it hurt any less to see the man he adored suffer so greatly.

He would do anything to make it better. He would give anything to give Stolas his status and powers back, or at least somehow make Octivia hear him out so he wouldn’t have to listen to the owl cry for his daughter in his sleep.

A couple of months ago, he would have thought that it would have been better for Stolas if Blitz had never come into his life in the first place. He didn’t think that anymore, at least, not most of the time. He still battled with his self-hatred every second of the day, but Stolas chose to save him; that must mean something. That must mean there was something about him that was worth keeping around. 

He tried not to think too much about the trial. For the most part, he was successful, but sometimes he would close his eyes and all he could see was that giant axe coming down to end his life. Or sometimes, on the really bad nights and he couldn’t let himself drift off to sleep in fear of what his mind would conjure up, he would catch Loona peeking out of her door to look at him, as if making sure he was still there before retreating to bed. There were even times he would get random texts from M&M saying that they loved him, and he would try to convince himself he didn’t know why they were saying it out of the blue. But he did, he knew why. They almost never got the chance to say it in the first place.

There were nights when Stolas would wake up from a nightmare and reach his arms out to Blitz with teary eyes, and the imp knew what he had been dreaming, for he had similar nightmares.

Without a word, he would curl up on the cramped couch beside the lanky bird, snuggling in his arms until they both drifted off, Stolas' gentle breath bouncing between Blitz’s horns, his lips grazing the top of the imp's head.

In the morning, they wouldn’t talk about it. They didn’t need to. 

They had almost lost each other. That pain was something that there were no words for. Even if there were, this was not the time. They would talk about it, they would. Blitz would make sure of it. For now, though, holding each other through the fear was enough.

If Blitz had been told a year before what his and Stolas' relationship would become, he wouldn’t have believed it. Back then, he couldn’t possibly allow himself to entertain the idea of Stolas feeling anything but sexual desire for him.

What a fool he had been.

Many things haunted him, going far back into his childhood, farther back than he liked to think. Lately, with all the new baggage added on, it was getting harder and harder to run from the pain.

Maybe it was a sign he shouldn’t, maybe, just this once, he shouldn’t run. 

There were only two moments in his life when he could ever remember feeling truly helpless. The first had been during the fire, all those screams, all that panic, as the spread of fire burned through his skin. It hadn’t been until he realized his mother had still been in her tent when he had truly given in to the panic. 

He hadn’t been fast enough to save her. 

After that day, he swore to himself he would never let himself care about someone enough that it would tear him apart when they left, whether by choice or death. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment he started caring about Stolas. Maybe it was when he thought Stolas was throwing him away when he gave him the crystal, maybe it was when he felt his heart jump to his throat when he realized Striker had truly hurt Stolas and he hadn’t come to save him, maybe it was during Ozzie’s, maybe it was way back at Loo Loo Land, maybe it was when they were children all those years ago.

He couldn’t place when he started caring about him, but that didn’t make that care any less true. Stolas was a part of him, a part he couldn’t bear to live without. Stolas was the fuel that kept his heart beating in his chest; without him, he would surely rot into nothing.

The “what ifs” infiltrated his heart once the sun fell behind the clouds, once Stolas was asleep.

If he hadn’t gotten to the palace on time on Sinsmas, would he have lost him? If he had been a bit slower, would he have arrived only to find Stolas' cold, lifeless body? Was that how Stolas felt during the trial, rushing to arrive on time?

His tail twitches, and before he realizes it, he’s crossing the room, sinking to his knees beside the couch, staring through wet eyes at Stolas’ gentle, peaceful sleeping face. Blitz wishes he could keep him looking like this forever, he never looks so calm when he’s awake.

Shaky claws make contact with soft, tender feathers. He rubs gentle circles atop Stolas’ head, swallowing all the fear bubbling in his chest. He remembers being dragged out of that courtroom, desperation clawing at every inch of his being as he struggled against the chains, the burn marks still lingering on his skin weeks later. He remembers those horrifying moments in which he was frozen in his family's arms, trying to process what had happened, trying to process why Stolas would put everything on the line for him .

He didn’t understand then, but he’s starting to. He would do the same for Stolas in a heartbeat, without a smidge of hesitation. He would give his life a million times rather than allow any vile hellbeast to lay a finger on a single one of Stolas’ feathers.

The knowledge of how far he would go to keep Stolas safe terrified him. There is no length he wouldn’t go to protect him. He would travel through every single one of the rings of hell, he would give up everything he has, everything he is, to keep this wonderful man alive. 

Stolas was everything. The stars shining in the night sky, the birds chirping late-night songs outside the window, the moon twinkling from high above, the heart beating rhythmically in his chest. He was his reason to get up in the mornings and make breakfast. He was his reason to try.

Stolas was his reason to continue when it all felt too much. If this man was willing to lay down his life for Blitz to keep living his, he owed him that. He owed it to him that he would try to live. 

He looks down at Stolas’ hand, lying flat on the couch cushions in front of him. He swallows, reaching over to slide his fingers under Stolas’, intertwining his fingers with the bird's talons. He rests on his knees beside the couch, hooking his chin over the side, his tail curled to the side. He stares down at his fingers wrapped around Stolas’, closing his eyes as multiple wet droplets fall onto his knuckles despite his best effort to restrain the tears. He wipes his face with his other hand, keeping his sniffles as quiet as possible.

He wants to say something as he stares at Stolas’ sleeping form. He wants to say those three little words that bloomed out of his heart and bounced back and forth in his mind every time he saw the former prince. No, Stolas didn’t deserve to be deprived of the first time Blitz managed to choke those words out because he was sleeping. 

So he stays silent, only allowing his tears to fall silently. When the sun rose, he would force himself to be strong once more, but in the quiet of the night, he could allow a moment of weakness, when Stolas didn’t need him. Come morning, he would pretend he knew what he was doing despite every part of his brain screaming otherwise.

He squeezed Stolas' hand once, letting himself be reassured that he hadn’t lost him. Stolas had survived. He had been spared at the trial, and Blitz had been on time on Sinsmas. He hadn’t lost him. He was right here. On his couch, breathing. He wasn’t okay, but he was getting better. Even if he wasn’t, Blitz would stay. He would stay until Stolas wanted him to leave, and even then, he doesn’t think he could ever get far. Even when he had thought he had completely ruined his chance with Stolas, they somehow still found their way back together.

Their souls were bound together, they could never stay apart.

He rests his cheek against Stolas’ knuckles, exhaling shakily as his eyes fall shut, allowing his body to rest.

He’s sure he’ll wake up with an angry back and a sore neck, yet, when he felt Stolas’ head shift until it was resting comfortably between Blitz’s horns, he knew it was worth it.

Stolas was worth it.