"Hey..."
Striker stared at Blitzo. His co-worker had, again, broken into his house, but he could also tell that he wasn't the same tonight. He was seated on the couch, legs tucked close to his body and tail curled up around himself.
Sighing, Striker went past the living room and towards the kitchen.
"You're not gonna kick me out?"
"Not in the mood tonight." was Striker's simple reply as he joined Blitzo in the living room, cup of tea in hand. "What brings ya here this time 'round?"
If it was possible, Blitzo seemed to shrink even further. "...I was lonely."
"It's 'bout what happened at Ozzie's, isn't it?"
"Clayton, please, don't give me the shitty 'I told you so' sermon... I'm not... I don't want to hear it..."
Striker shifted uncomfortably. He's so used to people calling him 'Striker' that it felt weird to be called by his real name.
"I wasn't goin' to. I think ye've had enough 'reason ya suck' speeches for today."
The two of them just sat in silence for a good while. Striker took small sips of his tea every now and then.
He caught a bit of movement to his right.
"How is it like?"
"What?"
"Being with someone, just like Mills and Mox... Being willing to slam a guitar on that jester's head to stick up for that someone..." Striker glanced at Blitzo, eyebrow raised.
"Why are ye askin' me? Why not ask Mildred and Moxxie?" he pointed out.
"Because they're all lovey-dovey with each other."
The comment brought a frown to the cowboy's face. "Ya think that I'm gonna talk shit about love just 'cause I'm a widower?"
Blitzo shrugged. "Well, you were crying like a baby over some photos of your wife hours ago."
Surprise, surprise, he was spying on me. Striker thought. Far from being mad... Well, he was mad at the invasion of privacy in such a vulnerable moment, but he'd save it for some other time.
"...I won't lie to ya, Blitz. I was cryin' because I miss my Jane. A day doesn't go by without me lookin' at her empty side of the bed, wishin' that she was here. It might sound depressin' to ya, but..." Striker sighed, smiling a bit. "I don't regret havin' loved' her."
"Hey, now that we're on it, how did she...? Well, you know. Kick the bucket?"
Striker closed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath.
"It happened ten years ago. Jane was near her due date to give birth, but it happened to fall near the date of the yearly extermination. I tried makin' sure that we had everythin' we needed in case it happened in the middle of it, but..." Striker took another deep breath. "I didn't count on the Extermination happenin' earlier and with no previous warnin'. We were completely caught off guard.
"Jane... she'd gone into town early that day. She'd wanted to surprise me with breakfast, and got caught in the middle of the killin'. I didn't even think it; I went lookin' for her to bring her back to safety... She... S-She was..." Striker closed his eyes shut. His claws dug into his forearms, tail wrapping around himself as he recalled the image of a heavenly speark running right through his wife's chest. "I-I managed to fetch her, but..."
"Clayton…"
"Hang on, sugar! I'm takin' ya home!"
They fled town through deserted fields and straight into the wilderness where the Exorcists wouldn't bother looking, leaving the echoes of screaming behind. Bombproof went a different way when Striker tried to lead him back to the cabin, however.
"Bombproof, what are you doin'?! The house is that way!" Striker yanked the reins with his free arm, trying and failing to change the direction the horse was running to. "Bombproof!"
"T-Trust him, Clayton… He has never led you astray" Jane whispered.
Striker wanted to protest, but his wife had a good point. Reluctantly, he allowed Bombproof to move on his own.
The stallion took them further into the wilderness until they reached a tunnel that led into a wide cavern filled to the brim with life. The plants inside were vibrant and alive, unlike the rest of Wrath, and a small spring reflected the light of the sunlight filtering through a small hole in the ceiling. The cavern was full of Hellhorses; some were wild, others fled from their farms and ranches when the early extermination began.
Striker had no time to admire the scenery, however.
As soon as Bombproof came to a halt, he carried Jane to a spot under a tree so he could properly tend to her. He ripped some of the cloth from his pants and pressed it against the spear wound on her chest to stop the bleeding, but it did no good.
"Love, how are ye feelin'?"
Jane coughed up some blood, but she paid little attention to it. "The baby… is he?"
Striker pressed his hand on his wife's tummy. For a while, he feared the worst until he felt a very faint tapping against his palm.
"The baby's hanging on," he sighed in relief.
"Clayton… I don't... I don't think I'm going to make it."
"No, don't ye dare say that!" Striker touched his wife's cheek and turned her head towards him so their eyes could meet. "Ye'll be okay, the both of ya will be okay! We've been through worse than this, doll, it won't be different this time."
"Clayton… You know as well as I do that wounds made by angelic weapons don't heal… It's too late for me, but…" She placed her hands on her abdomen. "...he still has a chance, my love. He must come into the world now."
"What are ye…?" Striker paled as he realized what Jane meant. NO. "Jane, ye-y can't ask that of me!"
"Clayton, if the baby is still inside when I bleed to death, he'll die with me. There's only one way to save him."
"But doin' that will kill YOU!"
"I'm already dying, Clayton… But our son has a chance to live…" Jane managed to lift her hand to touch his cheek, whispering pleadingly. "Please, love... Do it for me… for our child…"
He hated to admit it. He didn't want to, but deep down he knew she was right. He had to choose, but picking one would doom the other and Jane was asking him to choose their child, the fruit and consummation of their love. And he didn't have much time to think it over.
He knew what he had to do.
Tears trickled down Striker's cheeks as he kissed his wife's forehead.
"I love you, Jane."
"I love you too, Strike…" she whispered with a faint smile, closing her eyes as the tip of the knife touched her abdomen. "Raise him well…"
For the first time in a long time, Blitzo was speechless.
"Watchin' yer loved ones die in front of ye is one thing, but watchin' them die at yer hand is even worse. A single day hasn't gone by that I don't wish I could have done somethin' differently... If I had gone to look for her sooner, if I'd trusted my instinct and taken her back to the house..." Striker whispered, wiping his tears away. "But whatever the case, Jane's only concern was the safety of our child. Her last wish was for me to save 'im even if she knew it'd be the end of the road for her. I could have been selfish and tried to save her instead, but I couldn't bring myself to.
"And yet... In a way, I don't regret it. It took me a long time, but now I can tell ya that if I had to make the same call, I'd do it again in a heartbeat, as much as it crushes me to the core . It's thanks to Jane's sacrifice that Jake's here. Her love for 'im was so great that she gave up her life so that he could have one. There ain't no stronger love than a mother's..." a sad, tender smile drew on his face. "...And that makes me cherish my boy even more."
"C-Clayton... I had no..." Blitzo cursed under his breath as the tears gathered in his eyes. "Damn it, now you're making me all teary-eyed too!"
"Let it out, Blitz." Striker chided gently. "Ye once told me that I could count on ya if I ever needed a shoulder to cry on. Ye can do so too. Ye don't need to talk if ye don't want to, but you have to let out whatever's eatin' ya on the inside."
There was a long silence. Then a sniffle.
And another.
A sob.
Damn it, I hate it when he's right!
"Why didn't he...? They were... They fuckin' stepped all over me and he... Stolas did n-nothing... He was ashamed of me... He acts all flirty with me all the time, but the one time I needed him he just... Hid behind the fucking menu! Millie smashed the skull of that oversold jester to defend Moxxie...! It's not...! Why does nobody love me...?!"
The more he spoke, Blitzo began curling up on himself. Striker said nothing. He merely placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.