Archive of Our Own ^beta

Blitzø was awoken, not for the first time that night, by a heart-wrenching combination of twitters and sobs.

He was off of his perch—the beanbag he’d tucked under the front window—and by the couch in seconds. Stolas didn’t even react to his presence. His knees were pulled to his chest, his hands fisted in the front of the sweater Loona lent him. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes and onto the couch. “Please… no,” he whispered in his sleep, the byproduct of yet another nightmare. “Blitzø… don’t.” A small gasp. “Via. Octavia, my starfire, please—”

“Stolas, baby, hey.” Blitzø buried a hand in the feathers on Stolas’s head, claws dragging gently against his scalp. Stolas whimpered. “I know. It’s a dream. Wake up, you’re okay. It’s okay.”

Stolas’s eyes shot open. He stared, uncomprehendingly, out the window for a moment. Then his eyes shifted. Gorgeous, exhausted reds landed on Blitzø, and the tension slowly leaked out of his shoulders. His hands loosened on his sweater, his legs shifting to make a space on the couch. “Blitzø.”

“Hey, Stols.” Blitzø perched on the open spot. Stolas’s legs immediately moved again, curling around him. Blitzø dropped a hand to drag comfortingly over Stolas’s calf. “Another bad dream?”

Stolas curled tighter, burying his face against Blitzø’s thigh. “Yes.” A small, exhausted sigh. “You’re okay?”

It had been their routine for the night. Blitzø had barely gotten any sleep, having stayed up half the night coaxing Stolas back into oblivion. Sleeping medication had done nothing except enhance the nightmares. So Blitzø had stayed here, running gentle hands through fluffed-out feathers and murmuring comforting nothings until Stolas fell back asleep.

Most of the comfort included assuring Stolas, time and time again, that Blitzø was alright.

He wondered if either of them would ever get over seeing Blitzø’s head on that stone.

He shuddered again at the memory, scratching softly at Stolas’s scalp. “I’m okay,” he murmured. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, and no one is going to touch me.”

“Alright.” For a moment, silence. Blitzø just stayed there, his hands never stilling, easing soft tremors that hadn’t left since that afternoon. When Stolas spoke again, he waited long enough that Blitzø wondered if he’d fallen asleep. “Do you think Via is alright?”

Stolas had murmured about his daughter in most of the nightmares. He’d never asked about her until now. Blitzø sucked in a small breath, thinking about the girl with the soft eyes who ran away to see the stars. Then he thought of his own daughter, safely asleep in her room, and something crumbled in his chest. “I think she is.”

It was what he’d want someone to tell him. If it were Loona… he shook off the thought. “Stella is a raging bitch, but she’s never hurt Via before, has she?”

Blitzø felt Stolas’s eyes squeeze shut. “I know she’ll be unharmed. As long as she’s not yet of age, at least. But—” Stolas’s voice shook. “What if she thinks I abandoned her?”

Blitzø’s eyes shot wide. “Baby, no.” He let go of Stolas, wrapping his arms around the bird and tugging him until Blitzø could tuck him against his chest. Stolas buried his face in Blitzø’s neck. “She knows you wouldn’t do that. She knows.”

“I love her so much.” Stolas’s tears landed softly on Blitzø’s shoulder, and Blitzø’s own eyes filled with tears. “She’s my world. My universe. What if I—if I never see her again?”

“Hey. Look at me.” Blitzø tugged softly on Stolas’s shoulders until he shifted, their eyes meeting in the dark room. Blitzø cupped his face and wiped tears away with his thumbs. “Daughters are smarter than we let on, and they have more faith in us than they probably should.” Loona definitely had too much faith in him. He was proud of it. “You would never leave her. Your banishment is temporary. And you will see her again.” Blitzø chuckled softly. “I’ll go break her out of that fucking glass prison myself if I have to, I swear.” He leaned forward, tapping his forehead to Stolas’s. “Okay?”

Stolas pulled in a deep breath, then nodded. “Okay.” He moved away, wiping tears with a sleeve. The bags under his eyes made Blitzø want to cry. “Thank you, Blitzø.”

“Anytime at all.” He slid off of the couch, laying Stolas back down and tugging the blanket up. Stolas curled onto his side. “Go back to sleep, okay? I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Blitzø shifted, but Stolas spoke again. “Please don’t leave,” he whispered, barely loud enough for Blitzø to hear. “I couldn’t bear it if you did.”

Blitzø walked over to the bean bag he’d been stationed on, curling up and folding his tail around his legs. His eyes locked on the love of his life slipping back into sleep on his couch. And he smiled a little, despite it all. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Stolas,” he promised. “Never again.”

Stolas was asleep again within moments. Blitzø didn’t move anyway, more awake now despite the little sleep he’d gotten. His eyes stayed locked on Stolas in the dark room. The couch wasn’t really built for a Goetia, or for anyone much bigger than an imp. Blitzø had been meaning to get a bigger one. Stolas was tiny, though, despite being ridiculously tall. Curled up like he was, he didn’t even stretch to both ends of it. It made him look… small.

Blitzø hated that more than anything.

Stolas was… gentle. Despite his status, his power, and everything else, he had a better heart than most of Hell. Not that he ever let people forget who he was despite that. Stolas knew he was important. He knew he was powerful. And even when someone recognized how friendly he was, he never let anybody forget that he mattered.

Blitzø understood what that meant to him. And now, without it… Stolas had been important his entire life. In a matter of minutes, he’d gone from that to… this. Sleeping on a couch in an old sweater in the middle of a city he didn’t belong in. It couldn’t be easy.

Blitzø let out a small sigh. As much of a fit as he threw about it, Stolas’s confidence was one of Blitzø’s favorite things. It was what had gotten them here in the first place, really. Who would Stolas be without it?

It didn’t really do well to dwell on it now. He glanced at his dead phone, discarded beside the bean bag some hours ago. His heart warmed a little at everything he’d seen on it for hours. Imps all across Hell were reaching out to him, everything from job requests to condolences to a promise to help out if he needed them to. Nobody liked the way Satan had treated him. Nobody likes the way they believed Stolas treated him, either, but… he could work that out over time.

His thoughts were cut off by a sudden, frantic knocking on his front door. Blitzø was off of the bean bag in seconds. Stolas shifted on the couch, his features scrunching uncomfortably at the noise. Blitzø dropped a quick kiss on his forehead before running for the door. He grabbed his pistol from the table by the door, a growl in his throat as he threw the door open. “Whoever thinks they can fuck—oof!”

Blitzø was cut off almost immediately by a weight slamming into him. His fight or flight instincts shut off as a familiar jingling reached his ears, along with a sob he recognized immediately. The gun slid from his hands as he landed on his back inside the doorway. “Fizz?” His voice came out sort of like a wheeze. “What the fuck?”

Fizz had wrapped himself fully around Blitzø, arms and legs covering half of Blitzø’s body and effectively pinning him. Fizz’s face shoved into his chest. “I was watching,” he said, his voice tearstained and panicked. “I tried texting Oz, but he couldn’t do anything. And I watched Satan sentence you, and then they pulled out the ax, but I didn’t—”

“Whoa, Fizz, chill.” Blitzø freed his arms, using one to push them off of the ground. He held onto Fizz with his other hand as he stood, peeking over to make sure Stolas was still asleep. He was. Blitzø stepped outside, closing the door softly behind him before speaking again. “I’m okay.”

“I would have come sooner.” Blitzø lowered them both to the ground again, sitting with his back against the wall and actually wrapping his arms around his trembling friend. “Ozzie was there finalizing everything with that ice bitch for hours, and he only got home a little while ago. But I asked him to bring me here as soon as he got back.” Fizz burrowed closer. “I thought I was going to lose you again.”

Blitzø let out a small sigh, reaching up to tug Fizz’s head back. Fizz let him. The tears on his face had run some of the makeup he used, and his hat was a little crooked. Blitzø wiped at his face carefully. Then he straightened the hat, the accompanying jingle comforting against everything that had happened. Fizz’s tearstained eyes met his, and Blitzø smiled softly. “It takes a lot more than that to get rid of me.”

Fizz let out a small sigh, his limbs loosening a little. He sniffled softly. “It was… really brave, what you did for Stolas up there.” Fizz frowned. “Is he doing okay?”

Blitzø’s heart dropped a little. He let his head thump back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling and dropping his hands to rest around Fizz again. “He’s sleeping.” Blitzø let his eyes fall shut. “I know he’s not okay. I just… don’t know how to help.”

Fizz’s hat jingled as he spoke, a habit he’d picked up over the years that Blitzø thought was adorable. “You know… everyone saw the broadcast.” Blitzø’s hands tightened. “Most of Hell was watching. There was a moment where you and the prince disappeared, but… everyone saw how he looked at you. And… how you looked at him.”

Fizz moved, climbing off of Blitzø’s lap and settling beside him. He kept a hand firmly in Blitzø’s, though. “I don’t want to judge, since I don’t know the full situation. But I do remember how you talked about him that night in the warehouse. Even if I said I didn’t care.” Fizz’s hand tightened a little. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. “You love him, don’t you?”

Blitzø’s mind flashed, memories of Stolas standing alone in front of the council still fresh. Tears filled his eyes. “When it was me who was going to die… of course I wasn’t happy. I have you, and Loona, and M and M. And I had Stolas. The thought that I was going to give that up, that I wouldn’t have a chance to even say goodbye to him…?

“But… then he showed up.” Blitzø laughed a little as a few tears slid down his cheeks. “And I thought, ‘At least I’ll get to tell him. Before I die.’” Fizz squeezed a little tighter. “And then he told everyone that it was him. He turned himself into this—this villain, all so I would live. All so I wouldn’t die there.”

He broke off, memories flashing behind his eyes. Stolas’s song was still ringing in his head, all of the things he said that Blitzø knew he didn’t mean. And the things he did. “And… then they dragged me out.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “They pulled me away, and all I could think was that I didn’t care anymore. That I would do it, I would let them accuse me and die in that room, as long as they would just let him live.”

Fizz reached out, tugging on Blitzø until he leaned fully into the clown’s chest. His arms found their way around Fizz’s waist and squeezed tight. “I don’t know what the hell to do, Fizz. I’ve always been like this. I start to feel anything and I shove people away, because I know I’m just going to fuck it up anyway. But Stolas…” He buried his face against Fizz. “I love him so much. I do. And that feeling? The belief that he was going to die?” Blitzø shuddered. “What’s the use of all of this fucking action hero bullshit if I can’t protect the one person who means the most to me?”

“He’s okay.” Fizz’s voice was soft. “You know he is. He’s inside that apartment, asleep probably on your couch. If there’s any place he’ll be safe, it’s with you.” He chuckled. “Hell, you were at this door with a gun pointed at me within three seconds. Nothing can touch him here.”

Blitzø nodded slowly. “I know. You—you’re right.” He let out a soft groan. “I don’t know. It’s been bothering me anyway, you know? He’s alright, but… I came that close to losing someone so important to me. What about everyone else? Everyone less powerful? You, Loona, Millie, Moxxie… I don’t know how to protect anyone.”

Fizz was quiet for a moment. His hat jingled as he readjusted, pulling his phone out of his pocket. The clock read 3:38 AM. Fizz hummed softly, setting it down on the floor. “It’s going to fucking suck for a while. For you, and for everyone else.” He let out a harsh laugh. “Fuck knows I wouldn’t have been sleeping tonight. I probably still won’t once I go home.”

“You could always stay here.” The words were out before Blitzø could stop them. Part of him wondered if it was a lot, but… the panicked pieces of his mind were still scared shitless of letting Fizz leave his sight. So, he decided he didn’t care. “I’d feel better if you were here, anyway.”

Silence again. This time, though, it only lasted a moment. Fizz drummed his fingers along Blitzø’s back. “Your living room definitely has space to lay some blankets down.”

Blitzø’s heart squeezed in his chest. “It does. And—and the apartment feels a little too big with just me, Looney, and Stolas.”

Fizz picked up his phone again and held it out to Blitzø. “You have a few more people you could call, too. To fill that space.”

“You…” Blitzø sat up, wiping at his eyes before taking the phone. “You think they would come?”

Fizz tapped open his phone app and switched to the keypad. “I think they’re probably just as scared as you are right now.”

Fizz… was right. Millie and Moxxie were strong, but he saw their faces today. It took everything out of all of them. If nothing else, even if they said no, Blitzø would know they were alright. And that was good enough for now.

He dialed Moxxie’s number, the first one he’d ever memorized, and slowly raised the phone to his ear. Moxxie answered on the first ring. “Blitzø, is that you? Is everything okay? What’s wrong? Are you alright? Is—”

“I’m fine, Mox. Chill.” Moxxie let out a long breath, and Blitzø heard him murmur something to Millie on the other end. Fizz nodded encouragingly from beside him. Blitzø took a long, slow breath before speaking again. “Listen, I was wondering if…” Another pause. Years of keeping a straight face, of relying on pride no matter what, held his tongue.

But… Moxxie answered immediately. And he didn’t sound like he’d been asleep. Stolas was barely asleep on the couch, Loona was probably awake, and Fizz was on the floor of his hallway holding onto his hand for dear life. This was his family. And they were scared.

Fuck pride.

Blitzø sighed. “Do you and Millie want to come stay here tonight?” His voice trembled a little, and he hated the tears that filled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop now that he’d started talking. “It’s… already been a long night, and today was a long day. Everyone was scared. And… I don’t know. I think everyone will feel a lot safer if—” He tried again. “I will feel a lot safer if you guys are here.”

For a moment, nothing came through the phone. Blitzø overcompensated immediately. “You don’t have to. Fizz is here, though, and Loona and Stolas are too. You two are the only—”

“Blitzø.” Moxxie cut him off gently. Even now, Moxxie used his name rarely enough that it had Blitzø’s attention immediately. His voice was low when he spoke. “We’ll be there in twenty.”

Blitzø let out a trembling breath. “Okay,” he whispered. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll see you guys when you’re here, okay?”

“We won’t be long,” Moxxie promised. The call disconnected. Blitzø lowered the phone, handing it back to Fizz before reaching up to wipe tears from his eyes.

“I told you there was no harm in asking.” Fizz jostled his shoulder gently, then clicked around on his phone for a second. It was ringing a moment later. Fizz spoke quietly into it. “No.” A pause, then, “Can you come up here? … Yeah. Okay.” He lowered the phone again, shoving it into a pocket. “Come on. Let’s go back inside.”

Fizz tugged Blitzø to his feet, pushing open the door to the apartment and walking them both inside. Blitzø walked over to Stolas immediately. The bird was still asleep, and a small sigh of relief left Blitzø. He tugged the blanket back into place before walking back to Fizz, picking up his gun, and setting it back on its table. Fizz was still in the doorway. Blitzø joined him just as Asmodeus stopped on the other side. “Hello, sir,” Blitzø greeted quietly.

“Please, call me Oz,” Asmodeus said. There was a tinge of sadness in his eyes. “How are you holding up?”

Blitzø shrugged. “You were there. You saw.” He sighed. “Thank you, though. For standing up for me. You have no idea how much that means.”

“Hey. If Froggy believes in you, I do, too.” Asmodeus turned to Fizz, then, holding out a hand. Fizz tucked his face into it immediately. “What do you need, Fizzy? Are you ready to go?”

Fizz’s eyes flicked to Blitzø. “Actually, Oz… I think I’m going to stay here tonight.” Asmodeus’s eyebrows raised almost imperceptibly. “There are a few more people coming, too. We’re just going to hole up in the living room for the night.”

Asmodeus looked between the two of them. Then he smiled a little. “Of course.” Blitzø’s shoulders sagged a little in relief. “Blitzø. Do you mind if I…?”

He gestured to the apartment. Blitzø found himself nodding almost immediately. “Oh, yeah, um… sure.” Asmodeus snapped his fingers, trading his large, fiery form for one that would fit through the doorway. Blitzø stood aside to let him in, then closed the door. “Stolas is asleep on the couch.”

Asmodeus walked silently into the living room, his eyes immediately landing on the Goetia. Something sad filled them. Then he turned to the living room. “Your view is pretty amazing,” he murmured.

He scanned the living room, Blitzø standing silently by the head of the couch. Asmodeus glanced around for another moment, then slowly raised a hand. One wave of it had the floor of the living room transforming, thick blankets and cushions filling the empty space. Blitzø’s eyes shot wide. “Oh, it’s okay, you don’t have to—”

“I insist.” Blitzø quieted as Asmodeus lowered his hand, using it to wrap around Fizz’s waist. “Take it as a thank-you, and an apology. The apology on behalf of my fellow Sins. The thank-you for… everything you’ve done. For Fizz, and for Stolas, and for imps all over Hell.” He gestured to the floor. “You deserve to rest. At least for a night.”

Blitzø still wanted to protest, because he hated when people did shit for him. But… he caved immediately, letting out a small sigh. “Okay.” He met Asmodeus’s gaze. “Thank you, s-Oz.”

Asmodeus smiled. “Of course.” He glanced at Fizz. “A moment, Froggy?”

Fizz nodded, then reached out and squeezed Blitzø’s hand. “I’ll be back,” he promised. Blitzø watched as Asmodeus and Fizz stepped back outside, shutting the door softly behind them. Then he slumped down into the pile of cushions.

It felt a little surreal. Stolas on his couch, Asmodeus in his apartment, all of his friends on their way. He felt… well, still scared shitless. But he felt like he could breathe. Like all of it made a little more sense, now.

“Was that Asmodeus?” Blitzø turned at the voice, one that always made him instantly alert. Loona was standing behind the couch, clad in a pajama set covered in little pentagrams, bags under her eyes and her arms crossed over her chest. “What was one of the Sins doing in our apartment?”

Blitzø chuckled, the sight of his daughter easing him in a way only she could do. “He’s here with Fizz. Fizz is going to stay here for the night.” Blitzø gestured to the living room. “Pretty sweet digs, huh? I guess getting on a Sin’s good side pays off well.”

Loona simply stood there, staring at Blitzø with an odd look on her face. Blitzø sighed after a moment. “Come here.” He patted the spot next to him. Loona crossed the room immediately, curling up and burying her head in Blitzø’s lap. Blitzø ran a hand gently over her hair. “Millie and Moxxie are coming, too. They’ll be here in a bit.” He smiled a little. “It’s been a long day, and I think we’re all still a little terrified. I figure we can all stay here, and… I don’t know. Maybe it will make it all a little more okay.”

Loona whimpered, a sound that made Blitzø want to cry. “I thought I was going to lose you.” Her voice was soft. “I know I’ve said I don’t need you, and I can be a dick, but… I don’t want anything to happen to you.” She sniffled a little. “I’m sorry, Dad. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Blitzø curled closer, his tail wrapping around her wrist. “I know you don’t really mean all of it. And I love you anyway, even if you are a dick sometimes.” Loona laughed. “But… we’re here. Everyone is okay. And hopefully we’ll never have to deal with any of those assholes ever again.”

Loona was quiet for a moment. Then she sat up, wiping at her eyes before casting them towards the couch. Something in her expression shifted. “Is he okay?”

Blitzø could lie to most people, but Loona wasn’t one of them. He shook his head. “No.” Loona’s ears drooped a little. “He will be, eventually. We all will be. But… today was hardest on him. We were all only scared. He lost just about everything.”

Loona’s eyes didn’t leave Stolas. She looked—if Blitzø let himself hope—like she would fix all of it if she could. Her next words were gentle. “For whatever it’s worth, I’m… glad he’s okay.”

Something squeezed painfully in Blitzø’s chest. He hugged his daughter, holding tightly to her. “I love you, Looney.”

“I love you too, Dad.” She patted his head, then pulled away. “I’m gonna go get some fresh air. Wait for the M’s to show up, you know?”

Blitzø nodded. He watched Loona get up, his eyes staying on her as she slid on her slippers and walked outside. He only let out the breath he was holding when the door closed, his head dropping to land on the couch. God, he was exhausted.

A moment later, a hand found his. Blitzø’s head shot back up. Stolas’s eyes were open, his hand wrapped carefully around Blitzø’s. Blitzø threaded their fingers together and squeezed. “Hey, Stolas,” he said gently. “Did we wake you up?”

“Kind of.” Red eyes blinked slowly at him. “I never went fully back to sleep.” He shifted, sitting up a little. “Is everyone really coming here?”

Blitzø nodded. “We’re only waiting on Millie and Moxxie, and they should be here in a little.” He shrugged. “Fizz showed up, and I kind of realized I… don’t want to be without any of you guys. Not tonight.” Blitzø’s eyes filled with tears, and he wondered how many times someone could cry before their eyes gave out. “I would say I can’t imagine how they felt, watching me almost get executed on live television, but…” His hand tightened around Stolas’s. “But I can.”

Stolas let out a small sigh. “It’s so stupid. I was just flipping through channels on TV, and that’s how I found out. Nobody fucking tells me anything.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “If I hadn’t hit the right channel, you would have—”

“Hey, no, shh.” Blitzø slid onto the couch, tugging Stolas close and tapping their foreheads together. “You showed up. I’m okay. You’re okay. Nobody got too hurt, so everything is okay.”

Stolas pulled back, blinking careful eyes at Blitzø. They shifted, running down over Blitzø’s neck and to his t-shirt. Something in his gaze darkened. “But they did hurt you.” His hand rose, tracing gently over the bruises around Blitzø’s neck and wrists from the binds. Then they went to the ones around his jaw, remnants of the band over his mouth. That had been the worst part. Not being able to speak up for himself. “You’ll be okay?”

“I am okay. I’m an assassin. I’ve had worse injuries.” Blitzø laughed a little. “I told them that, you know. They said I hired Striker to kill you, and I… I told them I would have done it myself if I wanted you dead. Because, you know, I… kill people.”

Stolas chuckled, just a little. It eased something in Blitzø’s chest. It faded almost immediately, though, his red eyes dimming. “I… don’t know how to face anyone. Your friends, the rest of Hell, my daughter. I don’t know how to look at them. Not like this.”

Blitzø leaned forward and kissed Stolas’s forehead gently. “Then don’t.” He stood, easing Stolas back to the couch. He grabbed another blanket from the piles on the floor, one that fully covered the bird. He tucked it around him carefully. “Go back to sleep. And if you can’t, pretend.” He ran a hand over Stolas’s head carefully. “You don’t have to talk to anyone if you don’t want to.”

Stolas simply stared at him for a moment. Then he settled into the couch, sliding an arm out of the blanket to hang over the side. It curled against the cushions. “Right here,” he murmured. Blitzø tilted his head. “This is where I want you to be when you go to sleep tonight. Right here.”

Something in Blitzø’s chest caved. He blinked back a few tears, choosing to ignore the way Stolas’s eyes widened when one slid down his cheek. “Okay,” he whispered. He moved to back up, then stopped. He pulled in a breath before speaking. “You know, Stolas… I am so, so happy you’re alive.” He wiped the tear away. “I would do anything in the world to keep you that way.”

Stolas grabbed Blitzø’s hand, squeezed it once, then pulled away. “And I you, Blitzø.” Blitzø let out a trembling sigh. “I will see you in the morning.”

“Sleep well, Stols.”

Blitzø kept his eyes on Stolas for a few more moments, then walked off into his kitchen. Moxxie had gotten him a kettle a few years back, and he hated to admit how much he used it. He was a sucker for a good hot chocolate. The device was filled and set on the stove, and Blitzø started pulling their ragtag mug collection out of the cupboard.

He knew his friends wouldn’t judge Stolas, exactly. He knew they wouldn’t think any less of the Prince. Hell, Blitzø would be dead if it wasn’t for him. They would probably just thank him profusely for showing up when he did.

But… he could understand why Stolas wouldn’t want that. Being this hero, all because he made himself a villain? Neither of them told the truth that day. Neither of them created this whole plot, schemed for the other’s downfall, forced each other. Sure, they were both using each other. And Blitzø… fuck, he might regret that for the rest of his life. But Stolas wasn’t as awful as he’d made himself out to be. Even if it stung, Blitzø knew he hadn’t meant any of what he’d said.

‘I would rather be dead than live life without you by my side.’

Blitzø’s breath caught as he remembered that song. He’d always loved hearing Stolas sing, though he’d never admit that before today. And those words… god, Blitzø had returned them.

‘So if it keeps you alive… I am the mastermind, the master of my fate.’

Blitzø had realized too late. He’d wanted to tell Stolas right then and there. Seeing him there, in front of that council, believing that he was going to die? Why hadn’t he seen it before? Why hadn’t it occurred to him how much he loved Stolas?

‘Sure as the stars have shined, I’ll give my life to clean your slate.’

Didn’t he do that anyway? Blitzø told him not to. He begged him not to. And… god, at least Stolas was alive. But was this living? Was this a life? Blitzø hoped, more than anything in the world, that this could be enough. That they could be enough. But would they be?

‘You’re my light.’

‘You’re my heart.’

‘Only death can rend our love apart.’

Only death. Death, just death, but didn’t Blitzø deal with that every day? Didn't he deal it like it was an old friend? Didn’t he greet that old friend today, look it in the eyes and smile and hope everyone would be okay without him?

Didn’t he fight back against it when Death turned its head, focused on the one Blitzø loved instead?

“Dad.” Blitzø was yanked out of his thoughts by hands on his arms, gently tugging him back from the stove. He turned, Loona’s face coming into view in the dim room. Sadness sparked in her gaze. “Hey,” she murmured.

It was only then that Blitzø noticed the tears on his face. He reached a hand up, brushing some of them away and staring a little uncomprehendingly at the water on his hands. Loona’s arms went around him in the next instant. “I didn’t even know I was crying,” Blitzø murmured.

Loona let go after a moment, smiling a little before stepping past Blitzø and into the kitchen. Blitzø’s heart immediately stopped in his chest. Millie and Moxxie were there, standing hand-in-hand at the edge of the kitchen. There was something heartbroken in Millie’s expression, and Moxxie looked like he was barely on his feet. They both looked… awful. Blitzø had never been so happy to see them in his life.

He was across the kitchen in a moment, his arms going around whoever he reached first. It was Millie. She held on like he’d disappear if she let go, and Blitzø dug his hands into her so hard that he’d be worried about hurting her if it was anyone else. “Blitzø.” Her voice shook. “Hi. We’re here. You’re okay.”

Blitzø only held onto her for a moment before he was moving, dragging Moxxie against his chest and burying his face in the smaller imp’s hair. Blitzø didn’t think Moxxie had ever held him like he did now. “Don’t ever fucking do that again,” Moxxie whispered. His hands fisted tightly in Blitzø’s shirt. “I thought it would be fine, because we’re literally always in danger. But I couldn’t—I couldn’t watch. You scared the hell out of me. And then we went home, and all I could think was that you could be gone, and I wouldn’t even know because you—”

“I’m okay, Moxxie.” Satan, Blitzø loved this little bastard so goddamn much. Of all of the things he had today, Moxxie was the first. Moxxie was where all of it started. “I’m okay.”

“I don’t say it enough, but you saved me that day.” Blitzø’s breath caught. “You watched as someone threw some random imp into a jail cell, and you decided then and there that I would be a part of your team. And after everything with my dad, and with Chaz, I had… nothing.” Blitzø opened his eyes just long enough to see Millie cover her mouth, tears sliding down her cheeks. Loona tugged her close, and Millie buried her face in Loona’s arm. “I would be nothing without you. You’re not allowed to fucking die for us.”

“I would. Every single time, I would do things the same way.” Moxxie growled, and Blitzø laughed a little. “But… it didn’t pan out this time, did it?” Blitzø finally pulled out of the embrace, ruffling Moxxie’s hair. “I’m okay, Mox. And it takes a hell of a lot more than that to keep me down.”

Moxxie nodded. “I know. And I’m… glad you’re okay, Blitzø.” Millie tugged away from Loona, and all three of them yanked Blitzø into the circle of their arms. Blitzø loved them all so much. “But don’t ever fucking do that again.”

Tearstained laughs from the group, and that was the end of the tears for the night. Loona helped him drag mugs out of the cupboard for the hot chocolate, murmuring which person had to get which one. Blitzø laughed when Loona assigned his “#1 Bitch” mug to Moxxie. Moxxie rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he took it. Fizz came back in after a few minutes, Asmodeus waved goodbye, and that was that.

They all curled a little too close on the floor, Blitzø insisting everyone be quiet for Stolas’s sake. Even though he was pretty sure the bird was awake. They talked a little about nothing—the fireworks that still hadn’t stopped going off, how often Blitzø let his phone die, what work would be like now. Blitzø shut down all talk of work as soon as it came up. They didn’t need to worry about it now.

It didn’t take long, though, for all of them to remember how late it was. Eyes started closing, voices trailed off. Blitzø went around and gathered empty mugs, setting them to the side and murmuring to everyone that it was time to sleep. They could talk more in the morning, but for now they just needed each other.

When everyone insisted on being as close to Blitzø as possible, his heart melted. It took a bit to finagle, but they worked it out. Blitzø laid right in the middle, one hand threaded carefully through Stolas’s. A little of the tension went out of the bird with Blitzø there. Fizz curled up in front of him like a little spoon, and Moxxie did the same at his back. Millie was with Moxxie, as always, her arm stretched over her husband to fold her hand with Blitzø’s other one. And Loona, his baby, rested her head on his legs, curled with Fizz’s legs on top of her so she could be closer to Blitzø. It was a little squished, and some of them would be sore in the morning, but Blitzø didn’t even care. He didn’t think any of them did.

And this… well, this was home. Everyone he loved, all of the people he’d acquired over the years, asleep on his living room floor. He knew it wouldn’t be easy. They’d all be jumpy for a while, and he didn’t think he’d sleep a full night for the rest of his life. But… he had all of them. His daughter, his best friends-slash-employees, his best friend turned enemy turned best friend again, and the love of his life. He squeezed Stolas’s hand softly. Stolas squeezed back. And for the first time in Satan knew how long, Blitzø believed it.

He would be okay.