Chapter 3: Healing

Months later in the cell, Striker had been having nightmares. One nightmare had some of his victims in the past yelled:

"He deserves to rot in jail!"

"He should get the death penalty! That would serve him right!"

"That monster shouldn't be a father or a husband!"

Another nightmare was about him trying to escape the people he had hurt. He ran away, but was blocked by Kaitlin and Jake.

"Remember us, Striker?" Kaitlin taunted.

"I'm your son," Jake said.

"And I'm your ex-wife! You can't run from this!"

As Striker tried to run away again, he was then stopped by a giant Blitzo. "I want you to die! I wish it was you that was killed by the exterminators and not Jane!"

Striker gasped, familiar with those words.

"At least she would never do what you did!"

"Hey, Striker!" a small imp shouted, making Striker's skin crawl. "I'm the imp you choked."

"Moxxie?"

"And you're the same asshole who almost killed us at the Harvest Moon Festival," Millie said.

"We never should have hired you," Lin said.

"We should've seen your background check," Joe added.

"Oh, Clayton, I don't know who you are anymore," Jane said with disappointment.

Suddenly, a whole group of exterminators grabbed Striker by the bandana and tossed him aside. Then, they got ready to kill the cowboy imp with their angelic weapons.

Striker awoke with a gasp. He looked around frantically only to realize he was still trapped inside the cold, dark, and foreboding cell.

"Striker?" a guard said, making Striker flinch, not expecting a voice calling to him, "You have visitors. It's Christmas."

Striker sat up in his bed and saw familiar figures he used to work with, including his ex-wife and son.

"Hi, Strike, how are you holding up?" the imp boss asked.

"Blitzo?" Striker wanted to know if he heard his voice correctly.

"We got you some cookies in case you're hungry," Lin said, offering Striker some cookies.

Striker took a cookie. "Thank you, Lin." Then, he bit into it.

"It's no trouble."

"It may not be a meal, but it should fill you up," Joe added.

"We thought we'd come because it's Christmas and it'd be nice to visit you, Dad," a child's voice said.

"Exactly," Striker's ex said.

"Thank you all for coming," Striker said, "Things haven't been good here. I've been having nightmares."

"About what?" Moxxie asked.

"It's alright, you can tell us," Millie added.

Striker gasped, looking at them. It wasn't going to be easy to tell them what happened, though. Seeing that everyone was watching him and he had to tell them the truth, he sighed. "I had nightmares about the people I hurt…including my wife and you and you all…" He paused in between breaths and felt a chill down his spine. "Chewed me out for all the things I did you wrong, not that I blame you. Thus, Jane didn't know who I was anymore. Then I got killed by the exterminators for my crimes. I've been thinking about what you all said and now I realize that drinking and kidnapping won't solve anything after Kaitlin divorced me. I should've known better." Then he started sobbing.

Everyone around him took his information into consideration.

"Clayton, we had no idea you were suffering this much," Blitzo said. There were times when he actually called Striker by his real name.

Striker continued crying.

"Starting next week, Striker will be going back home and after the holidays, rehab," the guard said, "Just as we agreed."

It took awhile for Striker to stop crying. Once he found his voice again, he said, "Yep, I talked to him."

"Bombproof must've missed you," Blitzo told him, "But don't worry, we took care of him and fed him."

Striker sniffled. "Thanks, Blitzo."

The next week, Striker got out of prison and bade the cops who gave him a ride home goodbye and thanked them for taking him home.

Suddenly, a large black horse with a fiery mane galloped over to greet him and licked his face.

"Hello, Bombproof." Striker chuckled and patted his head. Bombproof nuzzled him with his head. "I missed ya, too, boy."

As the cops drove from the scene, they said, "Aww! So touching!"

Now that Striker was home, he could now sleep in his own warm and soft bed, instead of the bed in the cell he was in for the past year. Thus, he could eat a decent meal since it had been a while.

For dinner, Striker had pork chops with barbeque on them and shared some with Bombproof, knowing that his horse was a meat eater.

The barbeque pork chops were so delicious, the two savored the flavor of their supper. This tasted way better than the gruel Striker ate when he was in jail.

That night, Striker was tired after his dinner, so he climbed into his bed and his horse came into his room and tucked him in.

Striker yawned. "Goodnight, boy."

Considering what his owner had been through all year, Bombproof decided to sleep with him. So, he climbed into bed with Striker, keeping him nice and warm.

"Striker's out of jail?!" Verosika nearly tore out her magazine with fury. "Oh, fuck!"

"Shh…calm down," Kaitlin said gently, "He's in rehab."

"How is that supposed to make me feel any better, Kaitlin?"

"It's like you said, he needs serious rehab and he's going to get the help he needs."

Verosika stopped herself before having another outburst. "He is?"

"Yeah."

"And we invited I.M.P., Lin, Joe, and my dad over," Jake added, reading texts from his hellphone, "And they accepted."

"That's wonderful, buddy," Kaitlin said, rubbing his head.

Suddenly, a hellhorse was walking slowly and steadily with a cowboy imp, riding his back. "Well, howdy," the cowboy greeted, tipping his hat and he slid off his horse.

"Striker, how are things?"

"Better. I've been trying to improve myself to be a better father and better husband, even if it means cutting down on drinking."

"Well, that's good. Drinking is fine once in a while, just as long as it's not often."

"Thanks for coming, Dad."

"No trouble at all, kiddo." He ruffled his son's hair and he saw the succubus by Kaitlin and Jake. "Who's this?"

"Uh, meet my new friend, Verosika Mayday."

"Yeah, we've been talking," Verosika said, waving at him.

"Meet my horse, Bombproof." Striker waved over to his horse, gesturing towards the succubus, signaling Bombproof to walk over to greet her. "But don't worry, miss, he's friendly."

Bombproof smelled Verosika's pretty perfume and looked at her with loving eyes.

"Hi, boy," Verosika said, petting the horse. "Good horsey."

"He likes you, little lady."

"He calls women that, Verosika, so don't take it personally," Kaitlin whispered.

Verosika nodded. "Oh, got it."

"Hey, hands off Bomby, you succubitch!" a loud voice that Verosika knew too well, shouted.

"Blitzo," she said, pronouncing his name as spelled.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here with Kaitlin, Jake, Bombproof, and Striker, huh?"

"What? Kaitlin needed someone to talk to besides you, limp dick, before this cowboy got out of jail and started rehab, okay?!"

Blitzo looked like he was about to yell at her, but stopped himself. "Touché. Let's not forget why we're here."

"You said it, Blitzo," Loona said.

"Besides, we brought goodies," Millie chirped, setting down a basket full of food on one of the picnic tables.

"Joe and I helped her pack," said Lin.

"We made sandwiches, packed fruits and veggies, cookies, and Rice Krispy treats," Moxxie said. To Jake, he added with a wink, "Including peanut butter and jelly sandwiches."

"Oh, boy!" Jake shouted with excitement, since he liked peanut butter and jelly sandwiches like crazy.

Joe opened up the picnic basket and everyone gathered around to get their own food.

It was silent for a little while until Joe decided to ask Striker some questions, "Hey, Striker."

"Hmm…" Striker was caught off guard, pausing his lunch.

"So, how have things been for the past few weeks?"

"Much better, Joe. Much better."

"That's really good to hear."

"Yeah, I've been going to rehab three days a week and reducing my urge to drink. Even if it's good once in a while, but not too much."

"That's right, we don't want to overdo it, Striker," Lin agreed.

"How's Bombproof, Strike?" Blitzo asked, "He must've missed you."

"He's fine. I've been feedin' him, riding him, cleanin' him, and taking good care of him."

"Oh, Bomby, have you been taking care of Striker, too?" Bombproof asked the horse in a baby voice.

Bombproof nodded with a grunt.

"Yep. He tucks me in bed at night and pulls the covers when I need to wake up in the morning. He even joins me in bed to keep me warm."

"Aww…" everyone awed at the thought.

"Every other weekend, I get to see Kaitlin and Jake, depending on how things go between us."

And so, Striker had been going to rehab three times a week for a year. It took time for people to adjust to the Striker they could trust. Even his late wife, Jane, would be proud of him.

"Clayton, I'm so proud of you," she said, which echoed in Striker's mind, making him smile.

"Thank you."

His nightmares also decreased ever since he came back home to Wrath and now, he had good dreams most of the time. If it weren't for the people who he talked to that helped him, his recovery would've been difficult. Luckily, the people in rehab didn't judge him, but were very patient with him and that was just what he needed.

The End

AN: Here we have the final chapter. I couldn't have done this without Detective88.