Loona found Harry perched on their habitual rooftop, his legs dangling from a badly maintained edge. He never heard her come, but when she sat down beside him, he didn't jump or get startled. He was used to it, used to her, by now.
He wasn't really thinking anything when she arrived, just looking up at the bleak sky and letting the course of his thoughts run through him like running water. He didn't want to settle on anything, didn't want to bloat his brain with everything that had happened.
He wished for a distraction but was also unwilling to do anything that might cheer him up or change his mood. He was just mindlessly looking nowhere, the pain of his real thoughts, his real preoccupations distant from him. Loona dangled her own legs beside his and looked out in front of her to the building where she usually worked. She was careful not to be too obvious about it, but she snuck a peek at Harry's face.
He wasn't crying anymore, but he still looked withdrawn, his features all screwed up most strangely, with an empty, soulless look in his eyes that she didn't like one bit.
She thought of how incapable she had felt these past few days around Harry, realizing all the shit he'd gone through and was actively going through and how badly equipped she was for handling those kinds of things. But she didn't forget the conclusion she'd come to, to just trust her unempathetic self and accept that she and Harry understood one another to a certain point, even if they didn't explicitly talk about it.
They were bound by something stronger, more important than the simple ability to communicate feelings and be able to 'comfort.' She thought she knew what he needed, and she decided to trust herself on that. "So, you want a job?" She asked, keeping her tone as cool as she could. Luckily, she was pretty good at that. Harry side-eyed her, amusement and irritation leaking into what'd been an abyss of nothingness.
She was encouraged. "You tired of being a starved artist and actually get a job? Maybe you and Angel could move out of that dump," she said.
Harry cringed, and she immediately regretted having brought Angel up. She didn't know that Angel would probably never be able to move from his apartment because Valentino had chosen it for him and would probably retaliate if Angel so much as dared to improve his standard of living or find some better accommodation without his consent.
Loona quickly searched for a recovery, already seeing the jumble of problematic thoughts that her comment had revived in Harry... "So, do you want it?" "What kind of job?" "A shitty one," she narrowed her eyes. "What do you think I'm going to offer you? A job as a butterfly therapist?" Harry pierced his lips together, clearly trying to contain a bit of laughter.
She felt the rush of success well up her chest. "Does it involve torture?" "Eh." "Murder?" "Probably not." "Bad boss?" "Just very annoying," she assured him, trying not to laugh in anticipation of the grand reveal.
Harry caught the amused expression on her face and decided to play along. "Shoot. What is it?" "You'll have to come with me," she said, standing up and dusting herself off. Luckily, she had gotten him into the habit of simply following her around without asking too many questions.
They made their way down the rickety stairs of the abandoned building and then crossed the street. Harry was about to ask if it was very far when Loona opened the door to the IMP building. Harry paused. "You mean…" he questioned reluctantly. Loona rolled her eyes. "Come on. Don't be a wuss," she grabbed him by the ear and hauled him inside.
When she got to their floor, she screamed out at her dad. Harry looked around: he hadn't been here since he had first met Loona and gotten Alqamar, who, he remembered, he was quite neglectful of since he'd left him in his cage these past few days.
The IMP headquarters looked smaller, less intimidating than they had been all those years ago, which was natural since he was now so much more grown and taller, and everything seemed small to him now. It was also filthier than he remembered, but that could've easily been a true impression. "Blitzo!" Loona howled, already irritated, for some reason. "Is that my Loony?" Blitzo poked his head out from his office, a loving expression clear on his face. "Ugh," she whipped her phone out, trying to avoid looking at him.
Blitzo hurried over to Loona and put himself between her and Harry, but he wasn't exactly intimidating or making much of a difference, seeing how he was shorter than both of them. "Is this steroid freak bothering you, Loona? I'll have him flogged," he stated, looking Harry dead in the eye. "Blitzo!" Loona growled, "that's Harry." "Oh. That's Harry?" Blitzo inclined himself to look at Harry from several angles: he hadn't seen him in years, mostly because Loona wanted to keep them both quite separate to avoid awkward interactions, but also because of the same reason Loona never went over to Harry's often, either - they simply always met outside.
Their whole lives were spent on some scheme or another. "Hm, I expected him to be smaller." "It's called puberty," Loona replied. "Anyway, he's here for the sketch artist position you said you wanted to hire him for?" Blitzo clapped his hands together. "Right! Kid, do you think you could draw someone just by a description?" "Sure, I-" "Because we really do kill so many wrong people. Like, honestly, you'd be surprised by how shitty we are at killing the right person.
In fact, I think we have probably killed fewer real targets than mistakes-" "Blitzo," Loona warned between her teeth. "Right. Anyway, think you could do it?" "Yeah, sure," Harry replied, doing his best to sound confident in himself. "Mind if we put it to the test?" Blitzo quirked an eyebrow.
Harry pursed his lips, a little nervous. Sure, he was an employer, but he was also Loona's dad, and that made it doubly heavy on him. Granted, he was also Blitzo, and he wasn't precisely intimidating, but Harry was a nervous soul all the same.
He didn't even realize it at the moment. Still, the terrible troubles that had burdened him since yesterday afternoon had momentarily left him, transfixed as he was by the current situation. And that was exactly what Loona had planned to do.
She watched his mind become distracted by this new development, and she watched the darkness leave his features and make way for other kinds of emotions. He was such an open book, and it was fascinating to hear how he had never learned to repress his emotions, at least those on his face.
She contained her sadness as well as she contained her current happiness, though, pretending she wasn't paying much attention when she was actually absorbing everything that happened, from every small interaction between Blitzo and Harry to the natural dynamic they had.
Blitzo hauled Harry to his office and sat him down, and then he gave him a crappy, splintered pencil and a grainy piece of paper. Blitzo set himself on top of the desk in front of Harry and splayed out his spindly legs in a modelesque form.
Harry looked at him quizzically for a moment, thinking maybe the plan had changed, and now Blitzo wanted to model for him, which would've been equal parts funny and uncomfortable. Finally, Blitzo looked at Harry pointedly. "Well? You ready, kid?" Harry nodded stiffly, relieved. Loona hovered by the doorway, trying not to laugh at the situation. "The person I am thinking of has this pervy look to him-" "A him, then?" "Yes, but feminized," Blitzo continued.
His descriptions were almost painfully subjective, talking about 'the gleam in the eye' or all the different colors of this feathered creature when the color didn't translate because he had only given Harry a black pencil. Harry had to grill him to get more concrete descriptions of height, overall appearance, even if the man in question was a demon or human.
However, throughout it all, Harry kept his patience and interrogated Blitzo as politely and precisely as possible, impressing both him and Loona.
Harry didn't really understand if his poor description was part of the test or if he really sucked that bad at it, but in the end, when he thought he had all the information he required, he told Blitzo he would take a minute or two more and then deliver the portrait.
As Blitzo and Loona waited for Harry to finish, watching his tongue stick out of his mouth as he concentrated on the portrait, Blitzo neared Loona and stared at Harry intently, and his head cocked to the side. "Look at that muscle, Loony, and I think I could find a use for him in other areas, too." Loona snorted. "Like what?" "Well, I've been thinking of hiring a bodyguard, you know how people are when it comes to respecting imps." "Harry as a bodyguard?
He couldn't even hurt a fly," Loona replied, laughing, watching Harry's cooky concentration face. "He doesn't have to hurt anyone - I mean, he can if he wants to, but he just needs to stand there with his biceps, triceps, quadra-" "I don't think he'll agree." "I'm done!" Harry suddenly let out, excited. He feared he hadn't been very professional, but the rest of them weren't exactly diplomats, either. He had the distinct impression that this company didn't really act as formal and uptight as others.
But what did he know? This was his first job, and it was Hell - what were they going to do, ask for his references? Blitzo bounded over to him and promptly snatched the paper from Harry's hands. Setting himself atop the desk once more, he examined the sketch through slitted eyes. "Well, slap my ass and call me Fitzpatrick. This is creepy as fuck, kid!" "Uhm, is that a good thing?" Harry asked, watching Blitzo's grossed-out yet impressed expression.
Blitzo flipped the paper to Loona, who saw who Blitzo had been describing. Stolas' flirty face looked back at her. "Does this look like a man who likes ass play?" He asked her. "Gross." "I'll answer that for you - yes, yes it does!" Blitzo looked back at Harry, completely satisfied. "You're hired, Harry." He extended his hand to the kid, and Harry, beaming, took it urgently.
He tried not to show the disappointment in his face when he felt that Blitzo's hands were sticky. He didn't want to think about what they were sticky with. "Now, I have something else to offer you," Blitzo said, nearing himself to Harry. "What is it?" "I have the bodyguard position open, too. You interested?" "Me?" Harry was more than a little shocked - in his brain, he was still some stupid teenager that looked ripe for bullying.
He hadn't realized how old he looked or how intimidating and large he really was. "Sure: you're buff, reliable, could probably keep a straight face, and you kind of fit the description of that Angel-slayer guy from the news. Maybe his cousin or something," Harry and Loona's blood froze at that comment.
They didn't realize that they had more to be thankful for than not. "You believe in that Angel-slayer stuff?" Harry asked, trying to keep his tone light, the sweat out of his skin. "Nah, ain't no way somebody actually killed an Angel, or whatever.
But it doesn't matter because all the other jerk-offs in Hell believe it, and that means you are going to be a great asset." "I'm not sure…" "I'll double your pay," Blitzo said in a sing-song voice. Harry didn't even realize he hadn't actually told him what the pay was before offering to double it, but he thought he would seem suspicious if he didn't take it.
Overjoyed, Blitzo left to buy some champagne, leaving Harry and Loona alone. The moment he left, they both went into a fit. "Even my idiot dad can tell you look like the man in the news," Loona said in a panic, running her fingers through her fur. "Just- just think about it, okay? He said I kind of sound like that guy from the news but like his little kid.
They're looking for some thirty years old… beast… guy with big horns and at least five heads taller than me, right?" He reasoned. Loona nodded at this but was still pacing up and down, clearly in distress. "The good thing is that nobody noticed I was with you," Harry sighed.
If someone had noticed that all he had done had been for Loona, then they would've been easy to find since Loona's appearance had been the same throughout the whole fight.
He reckoned that the witnesses were in too much of a shock to look at someplace other than the fight between Harry and the Angel. "Besides, there can't have been that many witnesses, right? I mean, the Angels kept on… doing it after we left. The only people that could've testified were the ones that we're smart enough to leave early, while the Angels were distracted." Harry nodded, wanting Loona to calm down, but deep inside him, another thought crept into his head, one that he wouldn't be able to shake off.
Surely, there were very few people that knew him, that saw him walking down the street, and even fewer people that would suspect he could be the miraculous hunk of muscle that fought the Angels. He reckoned that no one would genuinely make the connection between him and the attacks, no one smart enough to reason it out, to look for the impossible, to see past all the reasons why it couldn't possibly be him. No one except one person. Valentino.
But he would never tell Loona that someone like Valentino could be onto him, so he just nodded at her words and reassured her until she was mostly convinced that nothing would happen, even though Harry didn't fully believe it himself.
