Hello, everyone, to the first volume of Helluva Dad season 2!
Since the first episode of Helluva Boss's second season was mostly a backstory, I decided to make a backstory introduction too. It's mostly about Jane and Striker, as the title here implies.
Enjoy!
"Did ya find her?"
"Nothin'. Fuck, the girl's gettin' better at this!"
"The boss's not goin' to like this."
Jane had to cover her mouth to suppress her laugh as the two workers went away in their feeble attempt at finding her. Once she made sure the coast was clear, she crawled out of the fallen log she'd hidden in. Her canary yellow dress was wrinkled and stained with dirt and mud, but she didn't care. She never wanted to wear this stupid thing, anyway.
As a finishing touch, Jane released the pigtails her hair had been tied into. Much better now!
Skargness town wasn't that far from La Arango, but she still picked up a ride in a passerby wagon just in case the ranch workers were looking for her footprints. She's been to town a few times, but never on her own.
And she was never allowed to mingle with the 'riffraff', as dad would call the other Imps.
Jane jumped off the wagon as it passed downtown. It seemed to be livelier than usual. She soon saw why: there were banners of the Harvest Moon Festival all over the place. Interesting. She's heard of it before, but she's never been actually present in one.
Her curiosity brought her into a nearby alley. There was a group of implings that were partaking in a sort of game involving a small wooden crate with thin bars, giving it a cage-like feeling.
The boy on top of the crate took notice of her, sneering as he saw her ruined clothing.
"Hey, Brisont girl! Where do ye think yer goin' dressed like that?" Jane wasn't surprised that he knew who she was. Everyone in town knew the Brisont family; Dad never let them forget, after all.
"I don't like wearing dresses." She said flatly.
"I don't like wearing dresses," the boy repeated mockingly. "Would ye listen to her fancy accent?" the other kids sneered.
Jane frowned. "What do you mean 'fancy accent'? I'm not a blueblood, I'm an Imp just like you lot!"
"Oh, really? Yer daddy doesn't seem to feel like it, actin' all snobby and mighty on his high horse!"
"I'm not like him!"
"Yeah, right." The boy sneered. "Ye Brisonts think yer so great, but yer not. Ye should all just get gobbled up by a hellvern or somethin'." Incensed, Jane pushed the impling. She didn't falter even as the other children began closing in on her. "Ye'll pay for that, Brisont girl."
Suddenly, a ball of mud struck the boy square in the face.
"Mess with someone yer own size, Travers!"
Jane—and by extension, the group of kids—turned to the alley entrance. Another impling stood there, shooting the kid named Travers a defiant glare.
He was unlike any imp she'd ever seen. He had a snake-like face and pale skin- His long, spiked tail was making rattling sounds like a rattlesnake. But perhaps the most curious aspect was his pale yellow, snake-like eyes.
Travers got to his feet, glaring daggers at the newcomer as he wiped the mud off his face. "And maybe you should learn to mind yer own business, Striker!"
"Didn't yer mammy teach ya manners? Ye don't treat a lady like that." Striker said hardly, to which Travers scoffed.
"Right, like yer mama knows what a 'lady' is," he said, venom dripping from each word. "Everybody in town knows she's nothin' but a whore who's always openin' her legs to whoever comes too close—!"
Travers didn't get to finish the sentence. Striker tackled him to the ground and began punching savagely. Jane noticed the rings around his pupils had thickened, eyes glowing menacingly.
It didn't take long for Travers to respond. He grabbed Striker's hair and pulled him off. The two brawled on the mud for a while, but soon the other kids ganged up on Striker. The pale impling hissed in pain as they began kicking him.
Thinking quickly, Jane picked up a nearby wooden pole and stabbed one of the kids' tails. Before the others could react, she swung her weapon around, striking the attackers square in the head and knocking them out.
One of the girls tried to leap at Jane but was struck right in the mouth. Jane saw a tooth embedded into the weapon.
"Millie!" Travers forgot all about Striker and Jane and went to check on the weeping girl. "Milsie, are ye alright?"
Jane took advantage of the distraction to grab her savior's hand, pull him to his feet and drag him out of the alley.
They ran a good distance away from the area before they had to stop. Striker was covered in bruises, his blood was dripping with blood and his left eye had swollen and turned black.
"Are ye okay?" Jane had to retreat her hand when her companion winced at her touch. "Sorry!"
Yet, he managed to crack up a grin. "I'm fine, it ain't a big deal. My mammy can hit far better than those wimps."
"That was foolish of you, you know! Those kids gave you a nasty beating." Jane crossed her arms, frowning. "'Sides, I can stick up for myself just fine!"
"So I saw. I think you knocked off a tooth of that girl." Striker laughed as he rubbed his sore shoulder. "Man, I wouldn't like to be any of those kids."
"But..." Her frown softened as she rubbed her arm. "Thanks for helping me..."
"Anythin' for a lady in trouble, miss!"
"My name is Jane. You're Striker, right?"
The impling chuckled. "That's actually a nickname. My name is..."
"Clayton? Clayton!"
A tall, female imp with long dark hair and a snake-like face—much like Striker himself— dropped her grocery bags and kneeled down to check on the impling.
She's never seen Imps like them before. Were they a different breed?
"Clayton, are you okay? What happened?"
"I'm fine, mammy... Just a scratch. Travers and his gang were pickin' on a girl and I saved her."
The woman looked at Jane. Unlike her son, she had no rings around her pupils.
"H-Hello, ma'am..." Jane greeted shyly.
"Did they hurt you, sweetie?" the woman—undoubtedly Clayton's mother—inquired with a concerned face.
"I'm fine, ma'am. Clayton helped me fend them off before they could hurt me."
The woman grasped Clayton's shoulders. "Honey, that was nice of you, but you shouldn't pick fights like that. Just look how many bruises you got! We should go have them checked."
"Really, mammy, I'm fine..."
"No excuses, young man," his mother said with a mild sternness to her voice. "We're going home to treat those nasty wounds."
"Wait, ma'am!" Jane picked up the forgotten grocery bags. "Let me help you with your bags."
Clayton's mother smiled. "Aw, that's not necessary, sweetie." Jane returned the gesture.
"It's okay, ma'am. It's the least I can do after Clayton helped me."
And so, Jane accompanied Clayton and his mother all the way to their home: a small wooden cabin in the middle of the forest, with a bit of cleared terrain around it. To her surprise, it was quite secluded, about a mile away from town. She calculated it mustn't be too far from the edge of La Arango's crop plantations.
The cabin interior was as simple as the outside: a living room, a kitchen, and a staircase leading to the upper rooms. Jane went to place the groceries on the kitchen table while Clayton was placed on the couch and checked by his mother.
"Really, mammy, I'm fiiine!"
"Do you need help, ma'am?" Jane asked.
"There's no need to be so formal, sweetie. Any friend of Clayton is more than welcome in this house." the imp woman smiled warmly. "You may call me Amelia."
Once Clayton's bruises were clean and treated, he took Jane to a particular spot in the wood not far from the house: a beautiful glade with a pond. They sat down under an oak tree, laughing.
"So you live in that big, fancy house on the outskirts of town? Everybody's always talking about it."
"Yeah. Me, my parents, and my sisters."
"I bet it's cool. Having lots of servants to do your chores!"
Jane hugged her knees. "Yeah, and all of them telling you how to dress up and how to act." she murmured sourly.
"How about yer sisters?"
"Well, Maggie's not that bad, but Trina is a bitch! She's always rubbing it in my face that she's the 'favorite'. Please, the only favorite my dad has is the imaginary son he wishes he had." Jane murmured with the slightest bitterness in her voice.
Clayton glanced down at his companion's dress. "What happened to yer clothin'? Did Travers do that?"
"No, I did. I hate dresses." Jane said matter-of-factly. "But mama insists I wear them because I'm a girl."
"That sucks."
"Yeah, but at least mom is nice to the three of us. Dad, on the other hand, hates the idea that we were born without a dick. He's bent on having a son, or even a grandson at this point. He just wants a male heir."
Clayton whistled. "Man, sometimes I've wondered what it'd be like to have a dad, but after hearin' that..." Jane glanced at her companion.
"You don't have a dad?"
"Nope. It's just me and mammy in the whole world. That makes me the man of the house!" Jane giggled as Clayton puffed out his chest.
"Is that so? Where's your mustache, then?"
"It's startin' to grow..." Clayton scratched the sides of his snout, earning another giggle from Jane"...I think. But I bet it's gonna be the most incredible, manliest mustache ever!"
"What happened to your dad?"
"I don't know. Mammy won't talk about it, and there ain't any pictures of 'im either." Clayton sighed. "I guess that speaks enough for itself. The sperm factory that made me didn't want me." The impling crossed his arms. "But we don't need him! Mammy and I are better off without him!"
Jane realized that she'd completely lost the track of time. It would be getting dark soon.
"I better go back. Dad might be merciful with the time I'm going to be grounded if I go home before the sun goes down." she sighed, getting to her feet.
"How long does he usually ground you?"
"Depends. Sometimes two days, other times an entire week. It really depends on the 'severity' of what I did. How about you?"
"I try not to get into trouble, but when I do, mammy pulls on my horn. She doesn't yell, but she's scary when she's mad. " Clayton shivered at the thought. Jane laughed a bit. "Think we could meet again? When you're not grounded, that is."
The smile grew wider. "Sure thing! It's nice having a friend that doesn't mind me acting like a boy."
"Well, see ya in a week or so, I guess."
As Jane disappeared into the forest towards La Arango, she waved back at her new friend one last time.
—*13 years later*—
Despite all of these years, Jane always visits Amelia's grave.
With her only son shipped out to Pride and no other family members, someone had to make sure the place wasn't completely absorbed by the wilderness.
And that someone was Jane.
That day, however, she found someone there: a tall, pale snake imp wearing medieval clothing of sorts. As they came face to face, she stared into ringed, yellow eyes.
"Clayton?"
"Jane?"
For a moment, neither said anything. The two of them stood still.
Then they began to laugh. Clayton made the first move, picking her up by the waist and twirling around while she grasped unto his now-broad shoulders. She imagined a strong chest and muscles underneath that dusty clothing.
"Sweet satan, look at ye!" he said after finally putting her down. "When did ya grow yer tits?"
"At the same time you grew that cool, manly mustache!" Jane toyed with the thin black lines of hair on her old friend's snout.
"No way, ye still remember that?"
Afterward, they spent all afternoon catching up. Clayton—or Striker, as most people called him by now—had spent three years at the orphanage in Dis before being sent to an Overlord's castle to work as a servant, and eventually as an assassin. He wasn't very detailed about those years, though. Jane noticed him stiffening and his tail rattling whenever he mentioned that part of his life, so she opted not to ask anymore.
He introduced her to his horse Bombproof, a beautiful gray stallion with a fiery red mane. Apparently, he'd too been taken from Wrath with his herd and lost his mother at some point. Striker had saved him from being sent to the slaughterhouse, and the two had been together ever since. Bombproof seemed somewhat smitten with Snowfire, but the feeling wasn't mutual and he received a kick in the gob a few times.
Jane had lots of things to tell him too. Trina and Maggie had gotten married, but they had yet to produce a 'male heir'—Trina had two daughters while Maggie had miscarried a few times, so Gustav had decided that it fell on Jane to 'produce an heir to the Brisont lineage', on his words. He hadn't changed at all even after her mother passed away a couple of years ago.
Her father, of course, wasn't happy about it. He's never approved of the 'bastard boy' his daughter had befriended as a child. He tried forbidding her from seeing him, but Jane of course didn't listen, nor did she care about what he thought. She'd almost laughed when Striker actually stood up to Gustav's attitude and technically gave him the finger, which turned the deep dislike into outright hatred.
The two kept meeting after that, be it to race on their horses, or engage in friendly fighting, but overall she enjoyed just spending time with Striker. As time went on, her feelings for Striker grew more intense. She couldn't help but feel a bit jealous whenever he got a bit too flirty with other girls.
Then it happened. Right under their tree in the Harvest Moon Festival.
Their lips met as they were bathed in the crimson light of the blood moon that day.
From that moment on, everything changed. Their interactions became more frequently intimate, holding hands and snuggling into each other. Striker became more respectful towards her, but he'd also gained a sweet and tender side whenever they interacted, putting aside the playful dynamic they had sometimes.
Naturally, Jane was anything but happy when she learned her father had been setting up an arranged marriage for her with the firstborn of the Harker family, another clan of imps known for siring only sons, which would probably give Gustav the heir he craved so much. She fought tooth and nail against the verdict, of course, but in the end, her father threatened to hurt Striker if she did not accept.
The night before the wedding, she and Striker met at their usual place, where he made his own proposal.
"Let's run away together, the two of us." Striker whispered as he held her hands tightly. "We can go far away from here, someplace with no rules or restrictions."
His ringed eyes were locked unto hers as he spoke those words, giving her a reassuring glance.
They were also pleading.
Begging.
He didn't want to lose her forever.
And neither did she.
So they carried it out. Or rather, Striker did. He stole her from the altar and then they got the heck out of Wrath, going all the way down to Greed, just for some time until things calmed down.
They made out a living from killing contracts Striker would take every now and then. He was reluctant at first, but eventually, Jane started helping him in those kills, essentially turning into a duo. Her blessed weaponry made them quite demanded in the business, so they had a decent income.
For the first time in a long time, she felt happy. No more dresses, no more 'lady behavior speeches', no more having to hide who she was. Striker loved her the way she was, and he proved it to her every day.
The talk of marriage didn't come until some time later, though. It was during a hit that went wrong that Striker popped the question as they covered each other's backs. Jane was caught off guard, but she said yes in the thrill of the moment. She wasn't sure if he was serious that time, though. Then a few days later, he took her to a surprise dinner in Lust and then for a romantic stroll in one of Ozzie's Erotic Gardens, where he serenaded her with a song.
I love you too much
To live without you loving me back
I love you too much
Hell is my witness and this is a fact
I know I belong
When I sing this song
There's love above love and it's ours
'Cause I love you too much
Jane almost couldn't believe it when Striker knelt down in front of her, grasping her hand.
"Jane Brisont... Will you marry me?"
Needless to say, the fierce french kiss Jane gave him was the only answer he needed.
They got married in Wrath. It was the only time she and Striker ever wore formally to fit the occasion. Afterward, they consummated their marriage and love, leaving their marks on each other.
The following four years were bliss. They continued to carry on assassination jobs together throughout the seven rings, never staying in one place for too long. Every day was like an adventure, or so Striker would often say.
One day, she began feeling sick to her stomach, accompanied by food cravings and morning dizziness.
She was pregnant.
But Striker's reaction was not what she expected.
It was the first real—and monstrous—argument they ever had. He insisted they still had time to 'get rid of the problem', but Jane would have none of that. She was determined to have the baby, with or without him.
She was heartbroken when she found Striker gone the next morning, and thought this was it for them.
Months later, she didn't expect him to show up for the baby's first ultrasound, but he did. Jane instantly fell in love at the sight of the tiny impling—a baby boy— safely tucked in her womb.
She thought they'd go their separate ways again, but Striker surprised her yet again. He almost begged her to let him show her something: his childhood home had been fixed during the months they'd been separated, and one of the rooms was in the process of being turned into a nursery.
"I figured the little one will need a stable home to live in." Striker had told her with an awkward chuckle. Then he became serious. "I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't have left ye just like that... I just..." Jane could see the regret in his features as he met her gaze with pleading eyes. "I didn't know how to react to the news. I never thought of the idea of bein' a father, but..." his hand resting on her abdomen sent pleasant shivers down her spine. "I want ya to know that the two of ya can count on me."
Admittedly, Jane felt somewhat torn at that moment. She was still mad over Striker leaving her out of the blue and the apparent unwillingness to make a compromise, but at the same time, she was moved by the gesture and his genuine regret over what he'd done.
The baby kicking—his first kick ever—right at that moment contributed to them reconciling.
—*NOW*—
Darkness.
Nothingness.
The searing sensation in her abdomen seemed to vanish as time went on.
Then she felt light. As if she was floating.
Is this what being dead feels like?
Suddenly, a bright light.
Jane awoke with a loud gasp. She took deep breaths, panting heavily to fill her lungs with precious oxygen.
"Clayton?" was the first word coming out of her mouth.
What had happened? She remembered the Extermination happening out of nowhere... Chaos...
The blessed spear running through her... Clayton picking her up...
The tip of his knife on her...
Her hands instinctively went to her abdomen. Her flat abdomen.
Oh, shit!
"Clayton! Clayton, are you here?!" she called out, but there was no reply nor any signs of her husband anywhere.
As she looked around for her husband, and newborn child, she finally realized that she was not in the cave Bombproof had taken them to anymore. In fact, this didn't even seem to be Wrath at all.
Instead, she was in what appeared to be in an open environment with a clear sky and the shining sun above her. The surface she was on top of was soft and puffy like a pillow.
Jane looked down to run a hand on it... catching a glimpse of blue in her skin.
In fact, her whole arm—no, both of her arms— had turned a pale blue.
Her visible strands of hair were a golden blonde instead of midnight black.
Overall, she felt a strange weight on her back.
"What the ***—?!" Jane covered her mouth in a panic when a static sound came out of her mouth instead of 'fuck'. "The ***?!" she tried with another word. And another. She tried every swear and offensive word in her vocabulary only to get the same result. "What the *** is going on?!"
Panicking, Jane started looking for something—anything—to see her reflection. She found nothing of the sorts, but she caught a glimpse of her clothing: a pale pink dress.
A fucking dress.
She didn't think about it. She tore the long piece of fabric off, exposing her bare, now-pale blue legs.
"Oh, good! You're awake!" Jane looked up and spotted a winged fawn with a glowing halo over her head wearing overalls and a pink bow. "It's been quite a while, I'd been wondering if you'd wake up at all." The deer said cheerfully. "I'm Deerie and I shall be your guide for today!"
"What's a Cherub doing in Hell?"
"Hell?" Deerie laughed. "Oh, no! No, no, no. You're not in Hell anymore, darling. This is Heaven!"
Jane blinked. "...What?"
"Don't tell me you haven't noticed yet!"
A mirror appeared right in front of her. Jane wasn't stunned by the object seemingly materializing out of thin air, but by the sight of her reflection.
She didn't recognize herself.
He skin had, indeed, changed into a pale bluish color; curls of long, blonde hair reached down to her waist with no sign of her horns; the weight on her back came from a pair of long, feathered wings. Her eyes changed into a pearly white instead of the sharp golden she was used to.
I'm a Cherub.
I'm a bloody, fucking, boot-kissing angel.
That means...
"Now, I know this might be a bit overwhelming at first, but—"
Deerie was visibly startled by the loud, horrified shriek that came out of Jane.
The imp-turned-cherub went into a panic fit. She'd rub her arms and hair, loudly stuttering her disbelief as she moved around the place.
Unused to her new wings, she unintentionally flapped them and began hovering, further adding to her fright.
It wasn't until Deerie's hoof slapped her hard across the face that she finally reacted.
"HEY!"
"That's better." Deerie's briefly-cracked cheerfulness returned. "As I was saying—"
"What the *** happened to me?! I look like a *** girly Disney princess!" Jane tore the skirt of the dress a second time—Odd, hadn't she ripped it off just a moment ago? "Why in the seven rings am I making this sound?!"
"Which sound?"
Jane screamed a swear word that came out in the form of static. "This one!"
"Ooooh." Deerie laughed nervously. "Swear words and inappropriate language is not allowed in Heaven."
"Oh, I'll give you some inappropriate language—!" Jane lunged at Deerie only to land on the cloud. The Cherub had hovered a few inches higher, dodging her attack.
"Oh, right! You probably don't know what's going on. Now, wait just a minute..." Deerie started looking over some floating flashcards that appeared out of nowhere. "Ah, here it is!" the Cherub cleared her throat. "Congratulations! You've qualified for our Little House of Hells Program or L.H.H.P for short..."
Jane paid no attention to the Cherub's overly long introduction, choosing to examine her surroundings instead. She was in a sort of city; unlike the buildings in hell, these ones had round, warped exteriors and lopsided features. Pastel shades of many colors, mostly blue and gold, made up most of the landscape alongside the white clouds and clear sky. The air felt cleaner too. Shapes of different shapes and sizes—all of them Cherubs—flew around the place.
So this is Heaven...?
The Cherub named Deerie was still reading from the card.
Sweet Satan, this pastel creamy deer doesn't know when to shut up, doesn't she?
"Why am I here?" Jane interrupted impatiently, prompting Deerie to remember she was still there.
"It's a funny story, really. See, the Lord has been concerned about overpopulation in Hell these days. In his endless mercy, he's been trying to look for a more... humane method to decrease it a bit, and he heard a rumor about his granddaughter starting a rehabilitation center of sorts. In Hell, of all places!" Jane had kind of heard about that. "But we can't just bring a filthy demon into Heaven just like that, who knows what habits they might bring with them!
"And so, the Lord decided to start a little... experiment, if you'd like to call it that. The idea is to look for demons with 'redeeming qualities," Deerie made an emphasis with her hooves, "and turn them into angels to see how they'd adapt to the sudden change of environment and if their behavior can be corrected. You happen to be the first viable candidate."
"Me?"
"Yeah," this time, the cherub made a clipboard appear. "Here it says you sacrificed yourself to save your child."
Jane shot the cherub a glare. "Yeah, thanks to your mother*** Exterminators!"
"In any case," Deerie continued. "your act of true love has earned you a place in Heaven! Cheers for you!" she giggled. "Funny. Nobody thought someone would actually qualify for this, seeing as your old kind aren't precisely the nicest people to be around."
Jane ripped off the dress a third time.
Then it dawned on her.
"What about my husband and son?" she asked, voice growing increasingly worried. "W-Where are they? Are they okay?"
"They're probably still down in Hell, but cheer up! "
"Okay, and how can I go back down to Hell?"
Deerie's eyes widened slightly. "You want to... go back down?"
"What, are you deaf? Yes, I need to go back to my husband! He's probably devastated because he thinks I'm dead-"
"Well, technically, you did die to save your child's life. That's why you're here!"
"But he doesn't know that! And my baby- I need to see my baby! He needs his mother, I—!"
"Oh, don't make a fuss about it. You don't need that demon filth in your life anymore!"
"Filth?" Jane hissed, stomping her way to the anthropomorphic deer. "Don't you ever dare call my family like that again, you judgmental, cotton candy, tit-having ***!"
She didn't know what was more infuriating: Deerie not being intimidated by her words or the perpetual, hypocritical smile on her face.
"You certainly have a nasty temper! You'd be a nice Exterminator if Cherubs were eligible for that job."
"Look, Bambi, I don't give a *** to your job applications. Just tell me how I can go back to Hell and you won't have to see my *** demon face again."
Deerie tapped her hooves awkwardly. "Yeah, um... I'm afraid that's not possible. Cherubs are not permitted access into Hell, and even if we could we can't just poof down there just like that. The way down only opens once a year during the Extermination. Besides, as the first demon-turned-angel, you'll be under supervision to examine your behavior."
Jane's stomach sank. "You're telling me that 'll never see my family again?!"
"Mmm... Yeah, pretty much so." Deerie wrapped a hoof around Jane's shoulders. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll love it here even if it takes a million years!"
A pin might have fallen on the cloud and still make a sound.
Never again.
Jane fell to her knees, wings drooping beside her.
Her hands returned to her flat abdomen.
Her baby...
Clayton...
Were they okay? Were they alive?
Never again.
Her eyes stung with tears. Damn it.
Damn it, no..!
She didn't bother hearing the rest of what the cherub had to say.
In fact, Jane lost complete track of time. She just remained completely still, crystal tears trickling down her cheeks.
Angry tears.
Impotent tears.
Heartbreak tears.
Would she never see her husband and son again? She'd never watch her little one grow? She'd never hear him call her mama? She'd never feel Clayton's hands caress her body tenderly as they made love?
Never again
Jane gripped the skirt—fucking dress keeps growing back like a fucking weed—, face hardening with determination.
Screw Heaven.
Screw their stupid program.
Screw the Bambi wannabe cherub.
Screw this shitty, Disney princess dress!
The former Imp got to her feet, wiping her tears away.
It was nighttime already. The sky in Heaven was a beautiful spectacle of stars and nebulae swirling in harmony. She didn't care about it if she and Clayton couldn't enjoy the view together.
Clayton...Jake..
I'll find a way back to you.
I promise.
And even though I know how very far apart we are
It helps to think we might be wishin' on the same bright star
And when the night wind starts to sing a lonesome lullaby
It helps to think we're sleeping underneath the same big sky
Tadaa! I bet none of you were expecting this!
Honestly, I wasn't either XD.