Just for a reminder, Jake is now thirteen years old starting season two. I'll come up with an explanation as to why the sudden age change eventually, but for now just enjoy!


Helluva Dad

Season 2

Volume 2: Seeing Stars


"Jake, get away from there!"

The impling protested as he was pulled away from the windows. "Dada, no! I wanna see dights!"

Ignoring him, Striker carried his son to the basement, locking the door behind him. As always, the room was fully stocked with food to last the 24 hours of the annual cleans. Pillows, blankets and cushions had been laid out on the settee bed as well.

Jake couldn't understand what was going on. All he knew was that, every year, daddy would board up the entire house from the inside and then they'd go to the basement, where they'd stay for the entire day. Daddy was pretty serious about it too; once down there, Jake was forbidden to even take a peek back upstairs until Striker said otherwise.

So there was an adorable pout on the impling's face.

"No faid!" he whined, his arms crossed.

"Life ain't fair, kiddo. Ye jest gotta learn to deal with it." Striker sat next to Jake. "So, what would ye like to do?"

Hours later, Jake waited until his father was asleep. Carefully, he slid out of his embrace and quietly made his way upstairs.

The windows were boarded up, but there were still some cracks form which he could peek outside. To his disappointment, there were no lights in the sky. Instead, there was a lone figure with a glowing white halo atop its curved horns and shiny feathery wings.

Curious, Jake tiptoed to get a better view on the stranger.

A cold, glasglow-esque slash grin was sent his way when the figure turned around.

Jake's stomach dropped. The hairs on the back of his head stood on end.

Whatever that thing was, he realized it was very bad.

The impling was suddenly pulled away from the window when the creature began walking towards the house. A hand covered Jake's mouth before he could scream.

"Don't make a sound, boy." Striker hissed.

Jake did as told, remaining completely still when the porch creaked under the weight of the stranger.

The house was dimly bather in white light as the exterminator peeked through the cracks in the boarded up window.

A few minutes later, the light and the footsteps faded away.

Striker let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"Jake Hunter Velkan, what the fuck are ye doin'?!" he grabbed his son by the shoulders, tail rattling. "What were ye doin' up here?!"

"I wadted to see the lights, dada..."

"Ye do realize that yer little stunt almost got the two of us killed?! I told ya not to leave the basement, this is why!"

Striker panted heavily, frown disappearing as he noticed that Jake would burst into tears at any moment now. The cowboy ran a hand down his hair, sighing.

"Look, Jake," he said more calmly, grip on the impling's shoulders softening. "When I tell ya to do somethin', it's for a reason. Hell is a dangerous place and ye don't know all of the rules to survive. I do. That's why ye have to listen to me, okay?"

Jake sniffled. "O-Okay, daddy..." he was pulled into a hug.

"Atta, pup, it's okay. Let's just go back down for now."


"Loona, honey, wait just a—shit! Loony, please, can we talk—Fuck! I-I mean, wow! A good throw, honey. I'm so proud of you—!"

Striker took a sip of coffee as he watched the newest 'father-daughter encounter' between Blitzo and Loona. Moxxie sat next to him.

"Hey, Striker."

"What?"

"Is having kids that hard?" Striker took another sip of coffee.

"Not if ye learn how to handle 'em properly."

Jake poked his head from the meeting room. "Dad, have ye seen my pocket knife?"

"Where did ye last put it?"

"Around here... somewhere."

"Ye better find it. I'm not buyin' ye another one, boy."

That said, Jake disappeared behind the door with a loud groan. Striker chuckled.

"His pocket knife is right in front of you, you know." Moxxie pointed to said tool in the side table next to Striker.

"I know, but I ain't makin' it easier for the boy. He's gotta learn to keep an eye on his own stuff, after all."

Millie narrowly stepped out of Blitzo and Loona's way as the hellhound continued to pummel the former, joining Moxxie and Striker on the couch.

"What's this about, guys?"

Moxxie took a sip of coffee. "Oh, Blitz finally talked to her about her attitude with clients."

Striker nearly dropped his cup as Blitzo suddenly moved the couch they were sitting in to use as a shield. "I just think some tweaks might help you be more of a, uh... People person. You know, all right—"

"I AM a people person!" Loona grabbed Blitzo by the collar of his jacket, lifting him up to eye level. "If I'm so terrible, how about you just grow up a pair and replace me?"

"Okay, well, maybe I... Maybe I might."

If it was possible, Loona's face turned even angrier. "What?" With that simple word, however, Striker could tell that she'd been actually stunned by Blitzo's proclamation.

Blitzo turned to Moxxie and Striker for help. The former gave him a thumbs up while the latter made a 'tone it down' sign.

"M-Maybe I will, little missy." he said. Striker smacked his forehead. "Yeah, that's right, it's tough love time! So now you can go to your desk."

Loona let out an animalistic growl. Against all expectations, she dropped Blitzo and stomped her way to her desk.

Meanwhile, Jake's search in the meeting room bore no fruits, so he opted to keep looking in the other rooms. He was just opening the door when he saw someone entering Blitzo's office. He knew it wasn't anyone form I.M.P., for Loona was at her desk and dad and the others were still in the couch.

Jake warily pulled out his pistol and walked towards the office.

"Take me to see the stars."

That voice...!

Jake burst into the room just in time to see none other than Octavia conjuring up a portal with Stolas's grimoire.

"Miss Octavia?"

Both stared at each other. Then, without warning, Octavia pulled Jake towards her with magic—the teen's heart skipped a beat when she wrapped an arm around him—and dragged him into the portal with her just as Striker and the others burst into the office.

...

Seconds later, Jake found himself on the ground.

"Owowow, that fuckin' hurt..."

Once his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, he realized that he was in the living world. But where? It looked oddly familiar...

He spotted giant white letters forming a word—Hollywood—in the distant hills. Oh, right, they must be in L.A., California. The golden stars confirmed it.

He heard another pained groan next to him. Oh, right, Octavia had dragged him into the portal and...

Oh, shit. Octavia!

Jake reacted, quickly getting to his feet and examining his surroundings. He found the Goetia princess on top of a human with an eyeball sticking out of its socket; he probably died when Octavia fell on top of him.

"Miss Octavia, are you okay?"

"Where am I...?" Octavia finally noticed him. "Who are you?"

Jake gaped. "Ye don't remember me? I'm Jake! I work with my dad at I.M.P." Jake grew increasingly frustrated—and somewhat hurt—when she didn't seem to take a hint. "The kid droolin' over ya in Loo Loo Land when yer dad took ya."

Familiarity flickered in Octavia's face at last. "Oh, you're that little impling?" the Goetia eyed Jake. "You look... older, but it hasn't been that long since I saw you last." Jake rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.

"Long story short, we kind of spent three years in an island that turned out to be Cancún and—incoming!"

Jake quickly pulled Octavia away just as a hobo threw up on the spot she'd been on. The former's back bumped into someone.

"This is my territory, brat! Take your shitty costume and get the fuck off my—!" the clown didn't get to finish the sentence as a bullet pierced into his skull.

Jake twirled his revolver before putting it away.

"We should scram out of here!"

"Wait! The grimoire!"

Octavia barely had time to pick up the book as Jake took her hand and led her through the busy streets, barely dodging a mob of protesters to get into an empty alleyway. Both teens panted heavily to recover their breaths. Jake was the first to recover.

"Where the fuck are we?!"

"I don't—I don't know!"

"What do ye mean 'ye don't know'?! Ye are the one who brought us here!"

"I wanted to see the stars, not some run-down human city!"

The stars? Oh, right, Moxxie mentioned there'd be a meteor shower tonight. Azathoth's tears, he called it. Supposedly, that shower occurred only once every thousand years.

Jake recalled the golden stars all over the floor. Guess the grimoire didn't tell the difference between the stars in the sky and the tv 'stars'.

"Well, at least it got the 'stars' part right... sort of." he clarified. Both demons goth to their feet. "But I suppose ye didn't mean these stars, did ya?"

"I wanted to go see Azathot's tears. Dad and I were supposed to go together, but..." the Goetia looked away, arms crossed. "He had more important things to do."

Jake looked up at the midday sky. "Well, we ain't seein' any stars till nightfall, so we might as well look for something to do in the meantime."

"What do you mean?"

"Miss, I'm constantly travelling between Imp City and Wrath. Cities are the worst place to watch any astrological events 'cause there's too much light. It's better to look for a higher ground or—" Jake was cut off as a pamphlet flew right into his face.

He was about to crumple it into a ball when he happened to read it.

METEOR SHOWER TONIGHT

COME SEE THIS ONCE-IN-A-LIFETIME ASTROLOGICAL EVENT IN THE OBSERVATORY.

"An observatory." Jake held out the flyer for Octavia to see. "We should go here at eleven P.M. Hopefully, ye'll get to see Azathoth's tears."

To his surprise, Octavia hugged him. "Yes! I'm glad I dragged you into the portal, kid!"

Jake's tail rattled wildly, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red. "Y-Yeah..."

Me too.


"Shit, shit, shit, shit! What the fuck am I supposed to tell Stolas?!"

"Well, he seems to like you, sir. Maybe he would understand if—"

Blitzo let go of Moxxie. "Okay, my dick is good, but it is not that good, Moxxie."

Striker rubbed his temple. "Blitz, we really don't have a choice."

"How the fuck can you be so calm when your kid is somewhere on the other side, Striker?!"

"I am worried about my boy, but someone here's got to keep a cold head." the cowboy asserted with a frown. "'Sides, ye'd rather have the ditzy blueblood find out the hard way?"

"So what? You just want me to call him up and be like, 'Hey, Stolas! So, your daughter came by, took your book, abducted the kid of one of my employees, and teleported off to who the fuck knows where, and we have no way of getting any of them back?!"

In the end, he did.

Or rather, he had Striker do it, claiming he was better at delivering bad news. So Striker found himself on the phone with Stolas while Blitzo hid under the desk.

"Yeah, yer kid stole yer fancy book and teleported off with my boy somewhere. Okay, we'll be here at the office." Striker hung up. "Done, bossman."

Blitzo peeked from under the desk. "Oh, that actually went better than I thought."

The door to the office exploded at that moment, and in came a very angry owl Prince in full demon form.

"BLITZ!"

And so, the four imps found themselves being scolded like small implings. Striker couldn't help but wonder if this is how Jake felt whenever he scolded him.

Yet, as much as he hated to admit it, he sympathized with Stolas. He was a father worried about his runaway child.

"Why would she do this? How are we supposed to find her? Where would she go?"

Striker got a message notification.

Jake

Dad, we're in L.A. California.

"Good news, everyone. Looks like they're okay."

"Who's that?! It's Via?!"

"Why would yer daughter have my number, ditzy? It's my boy." Striker pushed Stolas's uncomfortably prying face away and typed.

Striker

Good job, pup. We're gonna go fetch ya, so make sure to keep the princess out of trouble till then.

Jake

Sure thing, dad!

Gotta go. Runnin' out of juice.

Striker whistled. Bombproof burst into the office seconds later as his owner picked up Jake's pocket knife from the table.

"Let's go."

"Wait, you're bringing him along?" Moxxie inquired.

"There ain't anythin' Bombproof can't track down."

Thankfully, Stolas could open portals to the living world without the grimoire. Despite Bombproof coming along as the tracker, Blitzo nevertheless shoved Loona through the portal as well, stating that it wouldn't hurt to bring an extra nose just in case.

Striker had to say, he couldn't disagree with Blitzo pointing out that L.A. didn't look much different from Hell, judging by the distant gunfire and screaming.

"Alright, now let's get to work! Loonie, Bomby, sniff!"

"How am I supposed to smell anything in this city?"

"Can't you even do one thing right?" Loona frowned at Moxxie.

"Can't you do anything about how fat you are?"

Striker snorted.

"I'm not—!"

"Ye know, it wouldn't kill ya to put a salad inside yer body every now and then, little fella." Striker joked.

"Really, you too?! I'm not fat!"

Blitzo cleared his throat to call their attention. "Now, first things first we're gonna do this the old-fashioned way. We're gonna need disguises"

Loona and Stolas enveloped themselves in light, transforming into their respective human forms.

"No chance you can conjure us a couple of those, can you?"

"Sadly, no. I'm afraid without my grimoire, my powers are just a tad limited in the human world."

Striker frowned. "Ye know, for an 'all-powerful Demon Royalty' ye're actually pretty useless."

Moxxie and Blitzo gaped in horror at their companion. Loona raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"Ye can't memorize yer own fuckin' spells?"

Stolas frowned. "Oh, your memory is so great?" he gestured to Moxxie. "What's his phone number?"

"66657892. Yer phone number is 66614527. Would ye like me to say all of the phone numbers I know, cause it might take me a while and we really don't have time to waste."Blitzo barely held back a laugh.

Stolas crossed his arms and looked away. "Show off." Striker smirked.

"Wait, what about him?" Moxxie pointed to Bombproof. "I think the humans will notice a flaming hellhorse walking through the streets."

Unexpectedly, Bombproof enveloped himself in swirling crimson flames. When they dissipated, a beautiful, normal-looking sable black horse stood in his place.

The group—Striker included—stared at Bombproof, dumbfounded.

"Sweet Satan, did he...?"

"I didn't know hellhorses could do that."

"Bombproof, did ya...?" the stallion pressed his nose against his master's chest. Striker chuckled. "Ye're full of surprises, boy."

"Oh, Bombproof, you must be the greatest horse ever!" As usual, Blitzo got a nasty burn as he tried to pet Bombproof.

Afterward, the group set out to look for proper disguises. At some point, though, they lost Moxxie and Millie when the former got roped into purchasing from a street seller.

Blitzo and Striker entered a costume shop and came out minutes later in their new attires. The latter picked a sleveless black vest and pants and a wig of long brown hair. On the other hand, Blitzo wore a pink shirt, blue pants, a light brown wig and a big pair of ears.

"So?"

"Ye look ridiculous with those ears, ye know."

"Oh, yeah? Well, you look ridiculous with..." Blitzo trailed off. There wasn't anything bad in Striker's disguise. "Mark my words, I'm gonna make fun of you when you wear something silly."

"Look, everyone! It's Hollywood star Brennon Ragers!"

Before Striker knew what was going on, an entire crowd of humans surrounded them and he found himself separated from Blitzo. He managed to punch and kick his way out of the human mob, though Bombproof ended up having to pick him up by the jacket to pull him out.

Shortly after, a black van pulled up, and a bunch of burly humans in black clothing began breaking the mob apart. Blitzo was unceremoniously dropped to the ground just as an important-looking man got off the vehicle.

"Mr. Ragers, we've been looking everywhere for you. You were supposed to be on set an hour ago!"

Long story short, Blitzo—and then Stolas when he introduced himself as Blitzo's 'agent'—ended up being dragged into the van.

Blitzo broke through the window and shouted before the car drove off. "Strikes, Loonie, go find Via and Jakey! We'll catch up soon!

Striker rubbed his temple. "Guess we're on our own, then."

"Yeah. By the way, you might want to start running."

"Why?" Loona pointed at another billboard, this one displaying a zombie TV series poster with an actor whose attire was identical to Striker's own costume.

"Look, everyone! It's Hollywood star Neerman Rodos!"

The cowboy was smart enough to hop unto Bombproof and hightail it out of there.


Since it'd be a few hours until nighttime, Jake and Octavia resolved to find something to do in the meantime. They decided to take a bus tour that took them around town to see its celebrities. It wasn't that interesting, though.

Instead, they spent most of the tour chatting.

"I can't believe it. Ye've never been to the Harvest Moon Festival?"

"Mom has never liked the idea of 'mingling with plebians', as she puts it. I've never been too much into countryside things either so I didn't really mind."

"Man, ye should get out more."

Octavia smirked. "What about you, Mr. 'I don't hang out with other kids'."

"That isn't exactly my fault. Our cabin is a few miles away from town, so it's kind of hard to walk all the way there without gettin' eaten by a wild animal." Jake moved a few inches closer to Octavia when she looked away. "So it's yer first time in the livin' world?"

"Yeah."

"I thought ye would have visited more often. I mean, yer dad has a book that opens up portals anywhere."

"Nah, I haven't learned those kind of spells yet." Octavia glanced at Jake. "What about you? You seem to know your way around."

"Well, I've been accompanying dad, Blitz and the others on killin' jobs for a while now. Ye could say that I learned everythin' I know from them, especially my dad."

"Sounds exciting."

The bus came to a halt in front of a big mansion. "And to your left, you'll see the home of one of those influencers who thinks they're hot shit cause now they do TV shows."

Jake frowned as he saw the owner of the house begging to his wife and child, only to start kissing another man as soon as they were gone.

"Man, one would think that rich people lead fulfillin', happy lives."

"I don't know where everybody gets that idea from." Octavia sighed. "Being rich doesn't solve all of your problems, and it gets dull eventually. All of those... rules and expectations people have of you can be overwhelming at times..."

Jake had the feeling that Octavia was upset for some time now. He'd been tempted to ask was wrong a few times already, but refrained himself in fear of pouring salt into the wound. What if she got mad at him? He couldn't really understand what she was going through right now.

Dad once said that it's best to clean the wound before treating it or else it gets infected.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt if she... let some of it out, right?

Jake inched a little more closer without her noticing.

"Are ye okay? I've heard that yer parents are... splittin'."

"Did you hear it in the news or did you hear it from him?" she murmured bitterly. Jake guessed she must be referring to Blitzo.

"Ye could say a combination of both factors."

Octavia hugged her knees. "It's... I don't know. It's awful knowing that your parents are divorcing, but being caught up and having to be in the middle of their argument on a daily basis is even worse. Yet I can't help but feel sad that my family is... breaking apart. I'm afraid that I'll be forced to choose between the two of them." Jake thought she'd burst into tears at any moment, so he opted to change the subject.

"Hey, how's yer mama like? Ye talk more about yer dad than her."

"It's... complicated. My mom is... difficult to deal with. How about you?"

Jake looked down. "I don't have a mama."

"Did your parents get a 'D' too?"

"No, she..." the impling sighed. "My mama died when I was a baby."

"Oh... I'm sorry." Octavia apologized.

"It's okay, I still got my dad. It's the two of us against the world," Jake glanced up at the sky. "I wonder what he's doing right now."


Striker took a peek outside the dumpster.

Looks like the coast is clear. Phew!

"Seems like we lost 'em, bud."

Striker and Bombproof climbed out of the dumpster, the latter shaking and snorting in disgust a the pieces of garbage stuck in his mane. The stallion burned them off.

"Stop complainin', at least we got rid of those psycho fanatics." Striker searched inside his pocket for Jake's knife. "Find him, Proof."

The stallion sniffed the tool, then the air. They followed Jake's faint scent through the streets, leading them to a tour bus, a gift shop, and many other places until they ended up near the 'HOLLYWOOD' sign in the outskirts of town..

Striker was nearly run over by two paramedics dragging a sick-looking man and horse in stretchers.

"The fuck...?"

"You! The fella with the mustache!" a lanky, blue haired man called out. "No, no, the other one!"

It took Striker a while to realize that the guy was talking to him. "Who? Me?"

"Yes!" the human got a little too close for Striker's comfort. "You, my friend, must be the luckiest man alive right now, for I, Stephano Von Fabio..."

"Is yer monologue gonna take too long? I kind of am in a hurry..." Striker tried, and failed, to get away as the director pulled him close by the shoulders.

"Straight to the point, huh? I like you, pal!" Stephano began examining Bombproof's teeth and body. "Is this magnificent specimen yours by chance?"

"Get yer dirty human hands off my—!"

"Perfect! Just what I needed! These two shall be the stars of my commercial for HorZe Bars, the most nutritious horse snacks in the world!"

"Wait, what?!"

"Get these boys ready!"

Striker and Bombproof found themselves dragged into a changing room, both surrounded by makeup artists that began applying layers of it on their faces. The former's current costume was forcibly removed and changed into a cowboy attire that was surprisingly very much like his own. Then they were pushed into a filming set with a farm backdrop.

Striker wiped the make up off his face. "The fuck is goin' on here?!"

"Listen, pal, it's pretty simple! You are a horseman looking for some tasty snacks for your horse, and then," a candy bar-like snack was delivered to Striker in a silver platter. "You came across a HorZe bar and gave it to your horse, and it's so delicious that you gave it a bite too!"

Bombproof sniffed the bar and snorted in disgust.

"Didn't ye say this commercial was for horse bars?"

"It is."

"Why do I have to taste it too if it's supposed to be for horses?"

Stephano sneered. "Because it's 'so good, even people wants to eat it'!"

"No, they don't." Striker examined the half-wrapped bar. It was a dirty dark brown and had a very awful smell. "And I certainly don't."

"You don't have to, just make it look like you do. Alright, take one!"

"Whoa, wait a sec! Aren't I supposed to rehearse or somethin'? I don't know yer fuckin' lines!"

"That's why God invented teleprompters!"

Striker licked the bar. It was as disgusting as he imagined. Bombproof nickered in dismay,

"I know, boy. Let's just get this over with so we can go back to lookin' for Jake and the princess."

"Action!"

Striker took a deep breath. With a forced grin, he held up the bar and read the lines on the teleprompter with grit teeth.

"Horse bars made for... horses are 'so good'... I like them... too..." He took a small bite off the bar. He barely managed to keep the bitter, overly sour bar inside his mouth for two seconds before spitting it back out.

"Cut!" the director yelled in exasperation. "You're not feeling it!"

The imp spat what remained of the bar in his tongue. "How about ye taste and pretend ye like this manure taste crap?!"

"It's not manure, it's onion. Everybody knows that horses love onions!"

"No, they don't."

"Take 2! Take a bigger bite this time!"

Striker murmured under his breath. I hope my boy's at least havin' a better time than I.


Jake knew that the lights in cities made it hard to see the stars at night, but he'd forgotten to add the smog pollution into the equation. Instead of a a meteor shower, he and Octavia ended up watching a smog-polluted sky. This seemed to be the final straw for his companion as she finally broke down.

Jake didn't know what he could say to make her feel better. All he could do was sit next to her in silence.

"I'm sorry ye couldn't see the stars, miss..." he whispered.

"It's... It's okay, little guy." Octavia sniffled. "It's not your fault..."

"But ye were so excited about it, and I just..." Jake swallowed hard. "I like seein' ya happy, so I wanted to take you see 'em..."

"That's very nice of you even though you don't know me that much..."

Jake heard footsteps behind them. He turned around and found none other than Loona.

"Hey."

Jake waved a hand silently as Octavia wiped her tears. "Hey..."

"How did ya find us, Loona?" the impling inquired.

"Her Sinstagram pictures," Loona pulled out her phone. "Nice pics, by the way. You two have been quite busy today." She directed the next question at Octavia. "Are you okay?"

"Can't believe I was so stupid. I spent all day looking for a place where I could see some dumb meteor shower..."

"And all we got was this," Jake uttered bitterly, pointing to the smog-polluted sky.

"Yeah, smog's a bitch."

The three just sat on the ledge for a while, pondering. In a surprising show of good faith, Octavia helped Loona light up a cigar. A gust of wind blew some of the smoke right into Jake's face, making the teenage impling sneeze.

"You know, your dad's really worried about you."

Octavia scoffed. "Right! That's why you and Jake are here instead of him. He couldn't be bothered to keep his promise, and now he can't be bothered to come and get me himself. He'd rather spend his time just screaming at my mum. Why does he hate her more than he loves me?"

Jake pulled out his mother's blessed pistol... No, his blessed pistol to take a good look at it. He still remembered the day his father gifted it to him, saying he was ready to wield it.

"...It ain't as simple as that, ye know." he said after a while. "Sometimes ye don't really know what's goin' on inside their heads, or what kind of shit they're goin' through. It kind of gets messy, and everybody's got issues, especially dads. And yeah, they fuck up sometimes, but it doesn't mean they don't care.

"My father is the coolest dad ever, but even he has made mistakes. Ye might find this weird, but... I didn't know anything about my mom until I was nine." Octavia and Loona looked at Jake sadly. "Dad wouldn't talk about her and there were no photos of her that I knew. Even after he told me, I couldn't understand why he'd keep it from me all of these years, until..."

Jake flashed back to that night a few years ago. He'd woken up to go to the bathroom, and in the way back he'd seen his father's door was partly-open. Dad had cried himself to sleep with photos of Mom. All Jake could do back then was kissing Dad's cheek.

"He misses Mom. All of this time, he's been sad and grievin', but he did his best to bottle it up whenever I was around. He smiled and laughed with me even though it was killin' him on the inside. He was just... tryin' to protect me from goin' through the same pain as him the only way he could think of, even if it meant puttin' away all of Mom's photos and memories... He's been carryin' all that burden by himself all of this time, and I never knew..." Jake wiped his eyes as he glanced at Octavia. "Just try to imagine all of the things yer dad has been bottlin' up just to see ya happy."

"I... I hadn't thought of it that way..." Octavia wiped her eyes. "But if he cares, where is he?"

Loona motioned towards the city. "He's somewhere down there."

"He's here?"

"Looking for you. I mean," Loona inhaled from her cigarette. "Try to cut your dad some slack. He may not always get it right, but... he's trying." The Hellhound smiled down at the I.M.P. lighter. "That's more important than you think."

At that moment, the smog began to clear out. Though they saw no meteor shower, the full moon of the living world shone brightly for them tonight.

Jake smiled at the sight, briefly wondering if his mother was watching from... somewhere.


Eventually, he and Bombproof finally managed to get away from the goddamn commercial. Striker spent the entire way brushing his teeth and washing his tongue with soap, trying to get rid of the horrible aftertaste of that shitty bar.

Bombproof snorted.

"What are ye complainin' about? Ye ain't the one who had to bite into that piece of shit 43 times!" the cowboy snapped.

They were just turning around the corner when they happened to run into Blitzo and Stolas. Striker guessed that the burning building in the distance was somehow their doing.

"Strikes, did you find—Christ on a stick, what is that smell?!"

Striker spat some toothpaste unto the ground. "Don't ask," he murmured, wiping his mouth. "What about ya? Ye look terrible."

"Talk later, Strikes, we gotta find the kids! Now, if we could just find where..."

A portal opened a few feet away from them. Loona, Jake and Octavia stepped. out of it, the three of them holding hands. Striker immediately ran to check on his son.

"Jake, are ye alright? We've been lookin' all over for ya lot." He was caught off guard as his son tackled him into a hug.

"I love ya, dad."

Striker ruffled his son's hair, smiling. "Ye know," he pulled out the pocket knife from his jacket. "Ye left it on the tea table in the office."

"Wait, ye knew it was there?"

"Ye gotta learn to take better care of yer stuff, pup." Oddly, Jake just laughed.

Meanwhile, Blitzo had received a kick in the groin from Loona when he tried to hug her, while Stolas reverted back to his demon form as he pulled his daughter into a relieved embrace.

"What would posses you to do such a thing? You know I haven't taught you spells like this yet."

"I just wanted to see the stars you promised."

"The stars...?" Stolas's eyes widened in realization. "Azathoth's tears! Oh, my dear sweet Via. I am so—" he was cut off by another hug from Octavia.

"I know, dad. It's okay, you're here now."

The group saw a colorful firework explode in the night sky, soon followed by many more. They seemed to be coming from the building on fire.

"The fuck is that?"

Blitzo crossed his arms. "My acting career." he murmured sourly.

"Blitz, trust me, ye don't want to get into that life again." Striker sighed.

Jake briefly glanced at Octavia. His heart skipped a beat at the happy look on her face as she watched the fireworks.

"She's still way too old for ya, kiddo." Striker whispered into his ear.

"Daaad!"


What did you guys think? I tried to write Jake a little more mature than in the previous volumes, but he still keeps some of his childish reactions. Sadly, from this point on his relationship with his father might start changing too, but in a positive manner, I'd like to add.

It's just that dynamic between fathers and sons in their teens is very different from girls.