AN: Hello again, here I am with a short project. Something that I've been thinking and maybe more than one had thinking it as well.
Disclaimer: I don't own Helluva Boss
Waking up at this time of the morning is strange.
He rubs the lashes, thunders his back, looks for the slippers with embroidered musical signs that were under the bed. His footsteps through the apartment, which despite the loud and constant urban noise of the hellish traffic outside, neighbors fighting and the occasional corner robbery ending in a shooting, felt quiet in the even quieter apartment. But oddly enough, he wasn't distressed by that silence... For the moment.
He waited for the coffee infusion to burn with the affogato and ristretto shots he used to demand in other cafés, almost always with them making them pretty regular or awful, putting his name misspelled on the cup for good measure... So he preferred to do it himself. He was barely paying attention to Katie Killjoy's usual cynical reporting on 666 News on the TV, sipping slowly as he read the last few text messages his wife had left him that morning before she left.
"I saw this morning that they opened a new place, 'Metis Cafe', so I'll get you something from there when I get out. Text me when you wake up.
I love you so much 3"
Moxxie smiled, though underneath that warm smile of love for his Millie there was at the end a faint but present trace of bitterness, as if he had eaten a handful of saccharine... He knew she was trying to hide how much this had hurt. And that it still hurts like shit.
Sighing, Moxxie finished his coffee to return to the bedroom to get dressed. Even despite what he had been through, he still needed to have a routine, he still needed to look nice and presentable, if only to get through the possible long dead hours he had now going forward... So to avoid falling into slovenliness he groomed himself as usual, making sure his red bowtie looked impeccable.
Going back down to the living room, he grabbed one of his favorite rifles that still hung on its hanger, next to his personal cleaning kit that he had left from last night on the table. He needed to do something, to keep his mind busy other than cooking something for Millie when she returned or cleaning the furniture and floors again... He needed to dispel those thoughts and memories that were again trying to drag him back into that deep bleak abyss of misery and failure where he had been drowning for some time... And what had happened that last week had triggered it and make it worse.
And it had all started with that fucking sentence.
"You're a fucking disgrace."
Why had that hurt him so much?
Blitzø was always supposed to say cruel and hurtful shit like that, to just about anyone. To customers, to creditors, to street vendors... To Moxxie, especially Moxxie. And in the latter he was frequent, to the point that not a day could go by without the I.M.P. boss treating him almost like dirt under his boots with his taunts and insults...
...And Moxxie had often wondered why he was like that.
What could there be in that foul-mouthed and eccentric boss that led him to behave that way with him, even though Moxxie did nothing but give the maximum effort to make that company, most of the time in the red, not sink into total bankruptcy and prosper, even if it was for personal benefit... And to tell the truth, together with his beloved Millie, he was the one who worked the hardest...
Anyone would think that, seeing all that effort, his boss would see that effort and treat him like the 'family' that he kept saying they were... But no, Blitzø couldn't go a fucking day without treating him like shit, without belittling him, without taking him seriously, without using him as a target for his mockery. And it had been like that for years now, ever since he started working for him...
It had been that way ever since. And if Moxxie asked for a better treatment, it always fell on deaf ears.
Moxxie could still remember how Blitz had once confessed to hin, when they were held by those foolish and incompetent humans from D.H.O.R.K.S., that he was hard on Moxxie because he knew he could do better, that he could be strong...
And Moxxie had believed it. Just as he had believed that it was just part of Blitzø's way, that Moxxie just had to handle it like he always had: Get really pissed off and then let it go after a while, repeating himself over and over again that this was just Blitzø's way and he must get over it.
...But why, why couldn't Moxxie just let it go now, like he used to? Why couldn't he just forget about it, repeating it in an almost unbearable loop in his head?
Moxxie knew he deserved it. He knew he had screwed up on this mission, for wanting to do everything his way, perfectly and conforming to his rules, he had let too much time go by, he had not listened to his wife from the beginning, going so far as to even hurt her by letting himself get carried away by his stupid envy, behaving like a jerk... And even when Millie had told him that she had forgiven him, adding that she had thoroughly enjoyed his way of 'making amends' from start to finish... It didn't change at all the fact that Moxxie had screwed up, that he was a complete failure, that he couldn't do anything right...
...That nothing went right for him. And Blitzø had wasted no opportunity to remind him of that during that week.
And Moxxie didn't understand why he was so bitter about it.
At first Moxxie had thought it was because of how stressed and devastated his boss had been since his twin sister had violently rejected him after their confrontation, leaving him prostrate in a sullen and pained silence in his office for several days, always responding in a very bad way when Moxxie went to ask him something; Going so far as to tell him once, in his words: "To go off and smell his whore's ass than to come bother him with nonsense."
...Even if it was for important reasons like showing the company's budget for that week.
Moxxie had no idea what could have happened to cause such a break in the relationship between Blitzø and his twin sister Barbie. Until now Blitzø had never mentioned her directly, only knowing of her existence in that photo of the 'Amazing Imp Siblings' in the boardroom... Satan knew that his boss was as impenetrable about his past as he was intransigent when it came to avoiding talking about it, diverting it to another topic or with some biting remark... But even with that, the sniper didn't consider it fair that, apparently out of that pain and frustration, Blitzø literally used him as an emotional punching bag, even despite Millie's angry glances in his direction when he did so...
After all, neither of them were to blame that their target had been related to Blitzø's twin sister. How could they have known if it was just another assignment to kill a human for revenge? What would have been the odds of them meeting, if not next to nothing, but still happened?
But still, Blitzø kept taking his anger and frustration out on Moxxie for some reason...And that week really saw that reflected:
First it was growling at Moxxie for anything he did, even if he hadn't made a mistake. On Tuesday, when a giant behemoth had left a hole in the door on his way out, Blitzø had addressed Moxxie as if it had been his fault, saying he should fix the wall because he wasn't going to pay for it.
Then it was to relegate Moxxie from his duties as a sniper, saying that he had no confidence whatsoever that Moxxie wouldn't screw up again, even on missions where a good marksman was vital to get rid of a target at long range, Blitzø finishing by telling him to stay out of it and let the others do the job as it should be done, no bullshit extending the job for up to a fucking week, just as Moxxie had done.
...And finally hinting that Moxxie should do free overtime for three months to make up for the fuck up he had done.
And Moxxie had at first agreed to it, believing that he should make it up to boss after failing him... For failing him when he just wanted to make him proud...
But what happened that Friday, it was just too much:
"Fuck, Moxxie! Can you for once shut the fuckin' cesspool you got for a mouth?! You do what I say and that's it!"
"But sir! I'm just saying that we have to take into account this month's budget spending, we can barely cover the rent and tax payments! I was just giving the idea of...!
"I don't give a shit about that idea! Ever since you screwed up at that camp, you've lost the right to give ideas!" Blitzø's words sounded like a whip in his direction, making Moxxie recoil, almost shrinking back in his chair... For a moment resembling that frightened little imp in the family picture in his father's mansion.
"Blitz!" Millie had exclaimed angrily and warningly, clutching the knife at her waist. Beside her, Loona was still texting on her phone, but her brow was furrowed.
This was supposed to be a simple preliminary meeting to go eliminate an exclusive golf club at the request of a client who had been beaten to death with his iron clubs for missing the last hole... But from one moment to the next it had turned into a shouting contest, only because Moxxie had wanted Blitzø to consider using the available weapons instead of spending for some bazookas and machine guns because the boss of I.M.P. wanted to record it all to make a new commercial... Blitzø re-entered the fray, attacking without mercy:
"No, Mills! Here all of you do what I fucking say! After all I'm the boss, you're employees!"
"...Oh, that's what we are now, didn't you say we were family or something?" Moxxie had muttered to himself in a very low voice, but to his disgrace, the ex-circus imp had heard him.
"What the fuck did you say, you fucking idiot?! Say that again, if you really have any balls down there!"
"I-I didn't say anything, sir..."
"Yeah, well you better not say anything! You're better off keeping your mouth shut, not giving any stupid ideas that will only result in failure, like everything you've done these days!" Blitz was just pissed off, almost walking in circles and scrunching his nose. "...Fuck, Moxxie, I've got too much stress on me to be putting up with your bullshit! I'd even say take a week, no, a fucking month to get your shit together!"
"...W-What?"
"You heard it, you're leaving, I'm suspending you for a fucking month! Let's see if that'll help you get better and stop being the walking disgrace you are, Moxxie!" Blitzø shouted viciously.
...And that had broken something inside Moxxie.
At first he had just stood there, wide-eyed and gasping heavily as if he were a fish out of water struggling to breathe, as if he's going to have a panic attack. Millie had gotten up to walk over to her husband, wrapping her arms around him to comfort him as she growled angrily at their boss, saying something to him that Moxxie honestly didn't hear... everything felt like it was slowed down to an absurd level; With his eardrums almost ringing, Moxxie shifted his eyes to Blitzø's angry expression, starting to tell him not to stand there looking at him with that idiot face and...
...Loona had lowered her phone as she was perplexed, as was Millie, still clinging to her husband's shoulders, at what the sniper ended up doing:
Moxxie had pulled out his own set of company keys that had a green pony figurine on it and, with tear-filled eyes but also a determined expression, Moxxie threw it violently at Blitzø's face, saying in a faint but broken voice:
"...Don't bother, Blitz. I quit."
And before they could react, Moxxie gently pushed Millie's arms away from him and stormed out of the boardroom in long strides, with his shoulders shaking with sobs. Now Loona stood gaping, staring toward the door as Millie ran after her husband, screaming for him to please come back... And Blitzø stood there, gasping for breath at the sight of the set of keys that had ended up on the floor after bouncing all over his forehead and falling in a jingle that sounded unbearably loud in that dull silence of the room, he even stood looking around as if he was on Candid Camera...
...Then sighing, regaining his poise quickly, he looked at his daughter.
"Prepare the portal, Loonie. Let's get this job done and shoot that commercial. Make sure you get my good side."
The hellhound stared at him as if he had suddenly grown three heads. "...Blitz, do you realize what just happened? Fatty just said..."
"Pfff. You know how Moxxie is, Loonie. Over the top and dramatic, like the good theater nerd he is!" Blitzø shrugged, smiling nervously, much to Loona's bewilderment. "He'll come crawling back in less than the blink of an eye and then we'll all be laughing about it all...!"
...But Moxxie wasn't going to do any of that.
He had already reached the end of the long hallway, waiting for the rickety elevator to finally reach the 18th floor so he could take it down to the bottom of the building and then go to... Where? Back home?
Still with cheeks fresh with tears, still feeling strangely numb, he didn't want to look at Millie's broken expression as she had come running up to him, trying to grab his arm to pull him back... Because he knew this was going to affect her badly. It was affecting her right now.
But still...
"Moxxie, please! You don't have to do this! Blitzø was just...!"
"...No, Millie. I can't take it anymore. Not just for this, but for everything else." Moxxie's voice, still faint and thick with crying, had at the same time a strange serenity, a steely determination that the southern female imp knew well in him and loved too. "...Please don't say that Blitz was just joking. Don't deny how badly he treats me, that he has never respected or taken me seriously... And everything that happened this week just makes me feel worse, just makes me think that he's absolutely right about me... That I'm... You know, a fucking disgrace."
There was a silence between the two of them. And Millie bit her lip.
...As much as Millie wanted to tell him that none of that was true, that it had just been a joke that was a little bit more than usual, that it had just been a bad day that wouldn't happen again... She knew she'd be a fucking hypocrite if she did. Blitzø had treated him very badly, worse than usual. And even with all her grumbling and attempts to make Blitzø see reason, that he wouldn't use Moxxie as a way to vent his anger that his twin Barbie wanted nothing to do with him after everything had gone awry on that mission, that the fucking sentence had been too hard on her husband when he'd only wanted to try his best to make his first mission in charge as good as possible, despite everything... Nothing had helped, as if that had gone in one ear and out the other for Blitzø...
...As usual.
For a long time Millie had taken it as typical 'playful, harmless bullying' between co-workers, which was just teasing and picking on each other during work hours... but she, deep down, knew very well that for Moxxie it was nothing of the sort... And it never had been. Not with the way Blitzø, and even Loona, were constantly treating him, with Moxxie responding more and more angry and frustrated...
...And she knew perfectly well that it took a terrible toll on her beloved Moxxie's self-esteem and peace of mind.
She knew it perfectly well having seen Moxxie so depressed and off this week, since before starting work, then just wanting to lock himself in the room, curled up like a snail in bed and not wanting to do the things he used to love so much, like playing his guitar, looking for new recipes on Sinstagram and then preparing them, filling Millie with kisses and hugs as soon as they entered the apartment before spending some good time together... Just wanting to be alone, hiding his tears and repeating the words "fucking disgrace" under his breath. Millie knew this perfectly well as it had been fucking exhausting trying to pull Moxxie out of the dunghill of misery that he was wallowing deeper and deeper in, it being harder and harder to lift his spirits... And what Blitzø was doing definitely wasn't helping.
But still...
"But, Moxxie, remember what I told you!" Millie exclaimed, making her look at him. Her eyes were as red as his. "You're no any fucking disgrace, you're nothing like that! You're a skilled assassin, an incredible marksman! You don't have to prove anything to anyone, least of all that idiot asshole of Blitz! And he'll be damned if he says that...!"
"And you're absolutely right, Millie. But... Please understand that this whole week has been horrible for me, I just can't take it anymore," Moxxie whispered as he stroked her cheek with his claw, sighing. "I need to get away from this... from Blitz, from this job. Even if it's just for a little while. I really need it, honey."
"Well... Well, I'm going with you too! Like I said, fuck Blitz, fuck this damn company!" Millie exclaimed in despair, her expression very distressed... But her husband shook his head, smiling sadly.
"...No, Millie. I know you love this job very much. And even if I go away for a while, we still have to pay the rent and other expenses for the apartment... And I don't want to drag you into this, because it's not fair to you."
"Moxxie..." Millie whispered, her lower lip quivering. It was obvious that she wanted to follow him, she didn't want to leave him alone, but Moxxie knew that his dear wife loved being at I.M.P., where she could let out her tremendous skills as a psychotic killer and get paid for it... They're simply between a rock and a hard place, not knowing what to do.
And despite the drama that had just erupted, they still had work to do... Loona's message to the I.M.P group chat brought them to her attention, evidently showing that she was uncomfortable:
Loona: "Uuuhh... Blitz asks if you're done with your marriage drama so you can bring your asses back to run the errand."
Shaking his head, Moxxie simply walked out of the group chat, at the wet, hesitant look on his wife's face, feeling helpless to stop or dissuade him... He gave her a soft wet kiss, salty from both their tears, stroking her hair.
"Go, you have an attempt to make on that golf camp. Go and get crazy, my love. I'll be fine."
Millie sobbed, shaking her head.
"Moxxie, honey, please don't do this... We can make things right with Blitzø, we can make everything like it was before and..." But then she fell silent.
...Everything like it was before? And what was it exactly like before? Oh yes, with Blitzø treating her Moxxie like the company (and everyone's ) punching bag, with Loona seconding him in the deplorable treatment... She felt immensely foolish.
But Moxxie just shook his head again.
"I really need a time out, honey. Maybe... Maybe Blitzø is right, in spite of everything. I need to get myself together after this... And then we'll see what happens." He kissed her forehead, tenderly. "But I want you to know that, whatever happens, I still love you madly, and that you're the most wonderful, amazing thing that's ever happened to me, in every way, Millie. And I mean it."
With her mascara running with tears, Millie nodded, kissing him deeply again. Feeling her heart break into pieces over this, but also knowing deep down inside that her Moxxie needed to get away from this job for a while, as it wasn't doing his peace of mind any good... Much less to her, who was wearing herself out in trying to cheer him up from the desolate doldrums he was feeling since a time ago, being increasingly difficult, more painful and insufficient...
...Deep down, as much as it pained her to admit it, never wanting to admit it either by force or by hot iron, Millie always knew that this would come to pass someday. That one day Moxxie would reach his limit because of the treatment he was getting from Blitzø and Loona, that he would get fed up with it all and he will explode...
...That didn't mean she was ready for it, much less wanted it.
At that instant the elevator bell finally rang as the elevator finally reached its destination, with the musical sniper stepping in, waving goodbye to his wife with a tearful smile.
"I'll write to you when I get home. We'll make homemade ravioli when you get off work, with red hawthorn sauce that you like so much, okay? Have a good day today, sweetheart. I love you so much."
"O-okay, sweetie. I l-I love you so much too." Millie whispered, clenching her fist so tightly that it almost started to bleed, as she kissed him again... Not wanting to let him go, but in the end doing so.
...As the aged metal double doors closed, Millie slammed her fist violently against the concrete wall.
Her claw was bleeding when she returned to the office in silence, to the expectant expressions of Blitzø and Loona, who were surprised to see the southern imp reappear without Moxxie. Traces of mascara smudges running from her tears were still present, surrounding her bloodshot eyes... But as she glared at her boss, there was only pure effervescent hatred, almost looking like a dark aura...
...Making even the usually apathetic Loona uneasy, moving out of her way as the southern female imp walked straight towards her boss, who hesitated before asking, trying to maintain a nonchalant attitude:
"H-hey, Mills, where did Moxxie go? We have an errand to finish today and-"
Then Blitzø fell silent when he heard Millie's grunt as she interrupted him:
"Moxxie's not coming back. He quit... And all this because of your fucking fault, Blitz, both yours and Loona's!"
Blitzø blinked, dumbfounded. Loona was indignant: "And what the fuck did I do?!"
"Are you serious?! With the bullshit you always say to him, not to mention devouring his lunch all the time?! You really should get your face out of your cell phone, or rather your own ass!" Millie snapped viciously at the hellhound, making Loona growl angrily, flexing her claws in his direction. Blitzø quickly stepped in between the two women, seeking to prevent the impending fight.
"Hey, don't talk to my Loonie like that...!"
"You shut up, Blitz! You of all people treat Moxxie like shit for anything! And I told you, I told you several fucking times this week, Moxxie made a mistake and you didn't put it down him out as a fucking disgrace!" exclaimed Millie. Blitzø, feeling overwhelmed by how fucking badly things escalated, tried to respond as he usually did:
Avoiding trouble and, if he was already too cornered, ramming back:
" ...Well, why is my fault if the little bitch gets all sensitive like that over a simple criticism from me?! That job should have been done the same day and of course, the Prima Donna had to take a fucking week to do it when he could have...!"
"Get the fucking wax out of your ears and a better excuse out of your ass, Blitz! I told you I was the one who told her to take the week to do the job!" Millie interrupted him, sparks almost flying from her eyes in anger. "...So by that standard, I'm a disgrace according to you too, am I not?!"
Disarmed and not knowing what to say in response to that argument, Blitzø reddened. "N-No, Mills! Look, I'm really sorry! I shouldn't have been so hard on the little guy..."
"You've recognized that in good time... Too bad it's too late now." Millie mumbled, lowering her gaze. Blitzø's eyes widened like saucers, no longer able to pretend that everything would be all right, that everyone would be laughing at all this as he had thought... That Moxxie was just reacting dramatically as he had thought.
He felt his claws begin to tremble with anxiety.
"So... Moxxie's not going to... ?" Blitzø swallowed saliva and nervously began to speak in a hurried fashion: "C-can't you get him back? Moxxie practically does everything you say, for example when you tell him you want to pegg him, he immediately opens his legs and gets on all fours for you... Come on Mills, you can go convince him that this is a mistake, after he calms down a bit, can't you?!"
Again the hatred and contempt in Millie's reddened eyes flashed as she raised her head to face him. Blitzø almost recoiled, uncomfortably.
"...It's unbelievable, B. Even after this, you don't understand. Even when it hurts like shit, I realize that Moxxie was right to want to get away from this job for a while... as well as from both of you."
Uncomfortable, Loona hid her face behind her hair as she didn't want to get into this. Blitzø found it hard to hold her employee's gaze, feeling almost shrink with embarrassment at everything that happened... Any attempt at a stilted joke or funny comment Blitzø could think of to lighten the situation immediately died on his tongue when he tried to open his mouth to let it out... and all he could say was:
" ...So, you're... You're leaving too, Millie Billie?"
After a few long seconds where neither he nor Loona dared to say anything, Millie snorted, shaking her head.
"...I should, but Moxxie is right: Even if he leaves, there are still bills to pay... But I want to make something clear from now on, Blitzø," Millie pointed out sternly, pointing her finger at her boss's chest, who was still unable to utter any scathing remarks. "Unless is for work matters, don't fucking talk to me. Likewise, I forbid you to visit us. And if I see you there... I'm not going to answer nicely, Blitz," she added, pulling out a knife in surprise, making Blitzø swallow saliva.
Sighing, Millie stepped back, somberly.
"...Well? Don't we have to go on that errand today or what?"
"Uh... Uh, yeah, yeah." Blitzø replied, staring at the abnormally silent hellhound.
"Yeah, I'll get the portal ready now." said Loona in a surprisingly meek tone, clutching the Grimoire and walking past a blank-faced Millie, unwilling for any more friendly or casual conversation, still with her eyes wet with tears and her mouth tight.
...It was as if since Moxxie's violent departure, the chaotic harmony of the company had gone with him as well.
And although deep down he knew that this was his fault, Blitzø's stupid pride still prevailed over all that, trying to make him believe that this would be transitory, that Moxxie would come to his senses and return. That everyone would forget this anecdote, remembering it with laughter...
...Right?
...The rest of that day had been incredibly awkward.
They had finally done the assignment to kill those guys on the miniature golf course quickly and without recording anything to make the commercial Blitzø wanted to do, with Millie angrily slashing at every golfer in her path, letting out even more bestial grunts than she used to do on other assignments... But she wasn't smiling, she didn't seem happy to be there as on all previous occasions.
And when Blitzø passed by her with his weapons, trying to lighten things up with some comment or joke at the expense of the golfers being gutted, with some offer of one of his weapons from his backpack, he only received a sullen silence from his employee, as if he didn't talked to her or most likely, he didn't exist... Thus lasting the entire assignment, with Millie finally locking herself in her office as soon as they came back through the portal, avoiding an uncomfortable Loona who was hiding her face behind a copy of 'Hellhound Monthly'. Blitzø just grimaced at the sound of the door slamming.
"...Fuck, Moxxie. You had to leave me lying in the middle of this shitstorm." Blitz muttered to himself as he separated Millie's share from the big wad of bills they had received as payment (And after some hesitation, he put another one aside for Moxxie), taking a deep breath before doing something he had never done before:
Knock on Moxxie and Millie's office door, asking to come in.
It was funny, since more than once, not to say always, Blitzø had gone in without permission, catching M&M hugging and kissing on the couch or on one of the desks, with Moxxie yelling at him to get out of there while Blitzø took a picture of them, telling them that nothing was wrong, that he didn't judge them: All in all, he and Stolas had already fucked in almost any corner of the office, including that office and their desks... Receiving an indignant squawk in response from Moxxie, mortified and disgusted.
...He didn't want to imagine never seeing anything like that again.
"...Hey, Mills? Here's your part..." Blitzø mumbled, dropping the money on the rickety table, where Millie was sitting on the other side, her ear to the phone, no doubt talking to Moxxie.
She merely nodded. After hesitating, the I.M.P. boss added:
" ...Also there's some for Mox, I think he should change those little heart underpants I always see him wearing when I visit them, hehe."
The joke was met with stony silence. With Millie simply turning her back on Blitz.
"For the love of Satan, this can't be happening to me, all because the whiny little bitch is like he got period, menopause or some shit like that...!" said Blitzø to himself angrily as he retreated to his office to send the confirmation email to his client... Thinking about going to confront his 'employee of the month' at home after the shift was over, hoping to make him come to sense, to make
Moxxie see that he was acting in a very exaggerated way... According to Blitzø himself.
...Yes, Blitzø was so convinced that Moxxie would admit that he was just overreacting, that at the end, he would finally understand why Blitz was treating him so harsh lately, that he only wanted his weapon expert be tough, be better and should struggle more... That Moxxie would finally understand that Blitzø was just stressed out by everything that had happened, with this job, with... Barbie.
He shook his head, still feeling his heart ache from those words his twin sister said.
That night Blitzø went straight to his favorite couple's apartment in the usual way, up the fire escape to the top floor, slightly moving the dark curtain aside, seeing them in the living room, curled up on the couch, with the TV showing one of Moxxie's favorite musicals, but neither of them were watching it... Moxxie's eyes were bloodshot and he was talking in a low, broken voice, something Blitzø couldn't hear well, as he held Millie's claws between his own, with her nodding, also speaking softly.
Blitzø just watched them almost fascinated, almost with the same fascination as when he spied them when they're either fucking with various sex toys or when they were making love, with corny sweet expressions that would make the former circus imp shudder from cringe... And envy.
He was already thinking about how to go in to try to fix things his way, (Read, saying that Moxxie was just overreacting, then Blitzø could invite them to have beers at some bar while they were laughing about all this, maybe with some longed-for threesome... ) When he saw the couple's eyes fixed on him. For a moment nothing was said, only the sounds of an ordinary urban night in that convulsive area of Imp City...
...And contrary to what was expected, Moxxie didn't shout at Blitzø, didn't ask him what the hell he was doing there. Moxxie just looked at him with a thousand-yard expression, with narrowed eyes, with an unfathomable silence... But Millie did respond: after a quick flick of her wrist, a handful of small but sharp daggers flew out of her hands in the direction of the open window, making Blitzø recoil in between screams. "Oh, shit...!" he had exclaimed as a pair of them stabbed deep into his arms and shoulders, causing Blitzø to lose his balance and fall from the third floor, landing violently on several garbage cans, filled to the brim...
He still had banana and egg shells stuck in the muck along his horns as he ripped the daggers from his arms, wondering aloud why he had been attacked like this... As Loona handed him the antiseptic alcohol and absorbent cotton with a reproachful expression, shaking her head.
"...I think that the fall scrambled your brains more than usual, Blitz. Even I heard the old lady say clearly that they doesn't want you there."
Blitzø couldn't even answer. He had just curled up on the ratty couch after bandaging his wounds, calling and texting Moxxie and Millie's numbers, mostly Moxxie, hoping to say something... Always deleting what he had written. Always getting the same message, or else eternally ringing:
"Sorry, this number is not available. Please try again later."
...In less than an hour, it was impossible to call him. Nor was it possible to send him a message.
Anger and chagrin took hold of him, making him curl up on the threadbare sofa... Feeling that the dark, buried fear of being alone was starting to become a reality.
...
...
...Moxxie wasn't sure what he would do in these first few days that he had 'free time'.
For many hours he had tossed the matter around, wondering what he could devote himself to from now on, several times feeling anguished and guilty for having put Millie through this, for putting this burden on her shoulders while he pulled himself together and looked for another source of work, knowing that it would be difficult days for both of them with one less source of money...
..Every time he thought about it, he had to do everything possible to silence the mischievous little voice that echoed in his head when things went wrong or he was treated like the universal punching bag of almost everyone, which unfortunately had his father's voice, Crimson. Reminding him that he was a complete failure, a disaster... A fucking disgrace that he couldn't continue his job at I.M.P., either by resigning or being suspended, as Blitzø apparently wanted to do in the first place...
And even with those thoughts full of anguish, uncertainty and failure about the immediate future gnawing at his head... Every time he thought of the idea of returning to I.M.P., of begging Blitzø for forgiveness and asking him to admit it again, Moxxie restrained them with memories of the deplorable treatment he had received by his boss and Loona, for everything that had happened in that last week... It was precisely that damned sentence that made him hesitate and finally give up on the idea... Because Moxxie had really been serious about walking away from the company, for his own peace of mind.
...And thinking precisely about the company, or most likely, Blitzø, Moxxie still had mixed feelings. The anger and pain for all the bad treatment the former circus imp had given him, not only in this week or in recent times, but almost all the time, was still fresh in Moxxie's mind. But he was also thinking about the good things Blitzø had done for him... From helping him get out of prison, getting a new life in the Circle of Pride with a job at I.M.P., away from his father and his past life in the mob, making him meet the love of his life Millie, living adventures he never thought he would have in the human world...
...So to calm that swarm of conflicting thoughts and emotions that filled him with anguish and not knowing what to do, Moxxie did something to ease his mind. Whether it was playing the guitar, or what he had been doing these past few days:
Disassembling and cleaning his weapons.
Having done so since he was a frightened and self-conscious child under the iron-fisted and sickly control of his father Crimson, the musical sniper felt his chaotic mind calm his raging thoughts as he manipulated the dozens of bolts and mechanisms that made up the weapon between his claws as he slowly disassembled it, placing them with extreme order on the clean white cloth, perfectly aligned in front of the various jars of oil specific to each weapon, placed among the rods, toothbrushes and other instruments while Moxxie ran the oiled rag over the outer casing, picking up the specific oil jar for that weapon, almost without looking at which one it was...
Because Moxxie knew perfectly well which one was the right one for each of r weapons. It was a methodical and intuitive ritual for him doing it with inertia, but also with care and love.
After so many years dedicated to the assassination, to the care and maintenance of weapons, both his own and those of the Knolastname clan as well as those of I.M.P., Moxxie could do it almost by inertia, even doing something else like watching a documentary about the war in Hell or on Earth, listening to his opera records or chatting with Millie... Just going through the rag dampened in special and excellent quality vegetable oil, adjusting all the bolts from the barrel to the breech until they were snug in place, feeling the weight of the cold but at the same time cozy metal between his claws as he fired at one of the rubber targets in the room to check that everything was perfect.
...Vaguely remembering his mother's warm hands as she helped him hold a rifle, pistol or shotgun, as she taught him to clean it, put it together and take it apart without mistakes, always speaking to him always in a soft and loving voice, as when she taught him to read and write, to draw colorful landscapes in his notebooks, indifferent to Crimson's distant grunts, looking at them with nothing less than disdain and reprobation... Even with the memories still fresh from those dark days after the loss of his mother and being stuck with his father, Moxxie felt that, besides when he plucked the strings of his guitar, when he cleaned his guns...
That he was in control, that he could do it right. He felt like he was doing something he was really good at... Something he wouldn't consider himself a fucking disgrace.
It was in one of those solitary sessions during that long week after quitting, sometimes by the second floor window or on the front porch, that it happened:
...
He was sitting this time on the porch, enjoying the coolness of the unusually quiet afternoon in the neighborhood, wiping the butt of his AK-103, the last weapon he had managed to get hold of in the human world, stolen precisely from a military installation.
Moxxie had been immediately drawn to it, more than anything else because of its certainly awful state in that dented box in that corner that hadn't been carpeted with the blood and brain matter of those soldiers they had been commissioned to murder... Moxxie simply could not leave behind that missing beauty for his collection, more so as it was covered in rust and with the barrel somewhat dented.
Just as he used to take care of the cleaning and maintenance, Moxxie also repaired the broken weapons that still had salvation, both for professional interest and as a hobby... And with this one it took him a couple of days to separate the hulk of dirt and rust, accumulated since Satan knows how long, from the metal surface. But Moxxie hadn't given up until he restored its original shine, mostly because he never let a good challenge that consumed his hours go by... Moxxie couldn't have been prouder of his effort when he finally succeeded.
...And to prove that it was well-oiled and optimal for reuse after who knows how long it had been lying around in that box, Moxxie didn't have to use the old foam dummy next to the window, or any empty can on the street... It was just to quickly hit one of those raggedy, probably drugged out imps that he had seen running from across the street a couple of days before, now wielding a knife and screaming like a deranged maniac.
Moxxie usually didn't attack other imp in his neighborhood, unless they were burglars trying to break into the apartment... But that imp had headed straight for him.
The sniper didn't think it: He leaned the AK-103 against his shoulder, took aim and fired, hitting the little punk in the middle of his forehead... And since Moxxie had added explosive dragon-fire bullets he had in a small ammunition box, he had simply blown the other imp's head off as if it were more like a water-filled balloon.
...After almost a week without wielding a weapon, it had felt so fucking good and liberating to Moxxie. It wasn't the parade of bullets he used to do at I.M.P., but it was something. It almost felt like he had been in withdrawal, making him almost sigh with satisfaction.
He had just put away the assault rifle and was picking up the big white rag with the jars and tools to enter the apartment, when a small group of imp armed with sticks and machetes arrived, breathing heavily, staring at the corpse of the practically headless imp, leaving behind a large stain of blood and brain matter on the asphalt...
...To then stare at Moxxie, who stood nervously, clutching his rifle but trying to remain calm. The one who seemed to be the leader, a tall punk-looking imp with a mohawk and leather clothes just snorted, spitting on the almost beheaded corpse.
"...Pfff, we almost missed that son of a bitch. Boys, take away the souls he owed us." Turning to Moxxie, he added. "...Hey, thanks for the help, I guess."
Still not letting his guard down, Moxxie replied: "...He actually came running towards me, so I had no choice."
"And what an idiotic action on his part, having that rifle right at hand." commented another imp from the gang, looking at the weapon next to the bag of tools Moxxie was still holding. He narrowed his eyes. "...Hey, do you also clean and repair guns?" Without knowing why, since he didn't know what they wanted with him, Moxxie gave a nod in reply... And then, to his surprise, the imp took out of his pocket a rather battered FN Five-Seven. "...Hey, can you check it? I get stuck so many times, I don't know what the fuck is wrong with it."
Moxxie blinked, puzzled, not knowing what to do. "Well, I-I don't..."
"How much do you want, dude? I can pay you with what this bastard had." the gangster insisted, frowning, showing Moxxie the crumpled soul bills in his claw.
Moxxie's first impulse would have been to refuse, but seeing the scowling expressions of the other punks made him think that maybe it wouldn't be a good idea to get into a fight with them, even though Moxxie could technically kill them all with relative ease... But still, in the end and after sighing, Moxxie asked him for the gun to check it out, with the gangster imp giving it to him right away, never taking his eyes off him, as well as the others who approached, surrounding him...
...After a few seconds manipulating the weapon, looking through the barrel, feeling the stock and muttering to himself, the professional gunsmith inside Moxxie began to speak for him, to his surprise. In a didactic and detailed manner, the white-haired assassin began to explain to them what was wrong with it:
"...I see. Apparently there are traces of old powder crust inside the barrel that is clogging it. I also see that the trigger bolt is loose... I guess it's giving you trouble shooting, right? Okay, let me just tighten it for a moment, then we'll get that debris out of the barrel. It'll be like unclogging a drain or toilet, hehe..."
As Moxxie talked about the gun, the gang members watched him with attention. Not mocking, not making biting comments, not rushing him. Asking him various questions about maintaining his guns, with Moxxie politely answering them... When he had finished with the FN Five-Seven, the gang leader had pulled a Mini-Uzi out of his jacket, asking him to check it. Followed immediately by the other imps, pulling out their weapons, asking the same thing.
"Hey old man, can you check this dagger? It lost its edge and doesn't cut well... What do you recommend to make it cut better?"
"Hey asshole, I spoke to him first, get in the fucking line! Please check my Uzi, it jams the fuck up when I want to use it too! I'll pay you back with this pearl necklace I stole from an old lady!"
"And I can pay with this wallet I stole from a bank! I think the card still has money on it, if is not, I can transfer it to you from my own account!"
Moxxie just nodded as he held the guns in his arms, somewhat overwhelmed by the sudden attention and requests... When he had only planned to clean his weapons to spend the dead hours of the evening before going inside and heating up the food for Millie when she returned...
...But now that he thought about it, he could take payments for this. It reminded him so much of a phrase that none other than Crimson used to say: "Never offer any shit you can for do free."
Could he perhaps give it a try in the meantime? After all, he had nothing to lose.
...
...Yes, this will have two parts, hehe~
Now to the point, Blitzø sucks as a boss. Never mind his traumas, that he was surely stressed and devastated by Barbie, that he can't express his feelings well... Any excuse you can tell me will bullshit for me, i'm sorry.
It's just not right what he did. And I can say that without fear after being a team leader for almost an entire year at Amazon, with severe anxiety issues and dealing with people with problems as well. Your personal or family problems are NOT your employees/subordinate's fault... As we say in my country: "They don't have candles in that funeral", so why take it out on them?
Blitzø is a complex and tragic character, no one denies that... But sometimes you feel like using an iron rod on his head to see if he finally reacts.