The trip to that place always went the same way. He drove much more carefully than usual (just running over at least three old people and a turtle on the unpaved streets, kicking up dust under his wheels), the radio was on, but he didn't sing out loud the songs from Spirit or My Little Pony, he just had turned it on to feel the road even shorter than it really was and to try to distract his mind. Something to try to quiet the swarm of chaotic thoughts that buzzed in his mind at the same time, like a pretentious abstract painting.
And in recent times, those chaotic thoughts were accompanied by...
...an equally chaotic situation.
Closing his eyes for a moment, he opened them and sank the pedal to stop the van when he saw that it had been moving almost brushing the edge of the road. The last thing he wanted was to roll over in the middle of nowhere. Breathing shakily to calm himself, he restarted the engine and continued on his way.
It had been over a week since the fiasco inside Ozzie's. What had started with a normal, wild 'following' (stalking) session of his lovely M&M couple, taking advantage of a 'date' with (using) Stolas to get them to let him in... Blitzø had had enough of the shit Asmodeus and his talking dildo named Fizzarolli were pulling against Moxxie with their shitty diss-track, jumping to defend (pathetically) the sex lives of his employees... And thereby attracting the shit on him. And on Stolas.
The song had annoyed him, the words of Fizzarolli and Verosika had humiliated him, the sight of Stolas hiding behind the menu had destroyed him.
Retreating from the place with Stolas with his tail between his legs, both with their heads down, amidst the sincere applause for the resounding end of the love song between Moxxie and Millie showing the middle finger to all that concupiscent atmosphere, hurting him even more as they retreated to the entrance...
...Where a bunch of voyeurs were taking hundreds of pictures of them on their phones and recording them, sending the images all over Hell, making their open secret (Or rather screaming secret on Stella's part) now being an impossible truth to hide.
As he continued to cry his ass off on the couch for the rest of the night out of grief and embarrassment, Blitzø had received dozens of calls and messages from strangers, including an interview request from Katie Killjoy of 666 News, summing up all this shit in one sentence:
"Hey Blitzø from I.M.P., would you grant me an interview to find out how you managed to become Prince Stolas Goetia's lover? Many want to know the how! Well, everyone knows that imps are nothing but servants and jesters of the high nobility... So we are curious!"
At first he simply ignored the messages and calls. Then he turned off his phone, thus missing the calls from Moxxie and Millie, asking for him and if he was okay, thus getting lost among the mountain of junk messages from dozens of unknown fiends, all asking for the same thing:
"How?"
"You? A Goetia's public lover? More as a sex toy."
...Blitzø had always wanted his name to be visible, to be talked about... But NOT like that! Definitely NOT like that!
And the more messages and calls he had received, the more he sank into the couch. Making him wish he'd never decided to follow the M&M's on their anniversary date, making him wish he'd never decided to call Stolas and...
...Oh, shit.
Ever since he'd turned down Stolas' request (Or plea?) to stay together with him that night, telling his straight up that he wasn't in the mood for his perverted bullshit. Since that night he had ignored his calls and messages, unceremoniously deleting them as soon as he saw them, always feeling a sting in his heart every time he did so. And it had been more than a week since he had spoken to him.
Then, that week was over.
...Luckily the news about him had died down a bit after other scandals, among them the official divorce of Stolas and Stella Goetia which had caused the calls and messages to Blitzø to calm down, but made him feel just as bad. No, he felt like shit. But he didn't know how to deal with it.
At work he had merely done his job, struggling to avoid M&M's scrutinizing questions, ignoring Moxxie's lectures that had turned into a look of deep concern, accompanying Millie's soft pleas for him to tell them what was wrong... Because Blitzø was simply going about his job, stoically, not really enjoying the human slaughter, not making jokes or biting comments. Blitzø didn't need a fucking psychologist to know it was wrong, but he didn't know how to deal with it, much less talk it out with someone. And right now he desperately needed to talk to someone.
He didn't dare talk it over with Moxxie and Millie, knowing that deep down they were still angry that he had followed them on their anniversary night.
He didn't dare talk about it with Loona, who had given up trying to snap him out of his stupor and constant denial, going back to being as distant and sullen as ever. Every time he tried to open up to her, Loona would get angry and walk away.
From his own twin sister, no fucking way.
Outside of them, what friends or loved ones did he really have other than the usual imp he ran into at sleazy bars or in hot online chat rooms? The friends he'd had before, Fizzarolli, Verosika...? He'd burned a lot of bridges already. And something told him that this bridge to Stolas was also dynamited, burned and sunk.
There was only someone left with whom he could talk. And actually it wasn't really talking, because that someone couldn't answer him, never would, no matter how much Blitzø desperately wished otherwise.
...But he needed someone to even listen to him. And that someone could do it.
...
The distance between Imp City and this place was, grosso modo, almost two hours because it was on the outskirts, but Blitzø managed to get there in just under one hour. The damp, cold autumn air hit him full in the face, making him shiver even with his coat on... He hadn't been here for a while, too busy with work, with the (abusive) friendly visits to his employees' apartment, the monthly (and weekly) visits to Stolas' house. He felt guilty that he had neglected him in that time.
He was sure that the last bunch of flowers had wilted completely.
To his luck that day it was almost empty, so he didn't have to endure the unpleasant surprise of some bugger recognizing him and asking him questions, allowing him to walk in a straight line through the corridors of marble columns, stone rectangles and statues. Many were very elegant, but Blitzø walked past them until he stopped for a moment by a decrepit five rows of cracked, muddy concrete with sealed small rectangles, as narrow as houses for pigeons (ironically called 'dovecotes'), destined for the poor devils who could barely afford to avoid the ignominy of having their bones thrown into a rotting mass grave. The strong, hideous stench of urine, cheap beer, candle wax, and burning garbage dominated the place. There were scraps of cloth and old hobo boots in the tall grass.
In one of those 'dovecotes' his own mother had been buried for a long time.
When that son of a bitch Cash Buckzo had finally abandoned them taking all their savings with him, it had barely been enough for him and Barbie to keep their poor mom from being taken to the dunghill of the big top circus, with all the poor performers giving a little of their own coins, so she could be buried in one of those niches for the poorest of the poor devils... The moment they had sealed the narrow door where they laid his mother, Blitzø had sworn to Satan (and even to God) that the first thing he would do when he had plenty of money would be to move his mother to a more spacious and beautiful resting place, worthy of her and all the warm love she had given her children and her shitty fucking bastard of a husband without the latter deserving it one bit, with all her heart and meager strength.
And Blitzø had done it: A wider tombstone under a tree, surrounded by rhododendrons. With an epitaph he had composed himself, comparing that her soul of Tilla was now free, like a wild horse.
The reason Blitzø had first passed through the 'dovecotes' was to remind himself again that he always had to bust his ass to earn money and have some status and power, something so strange and alien to imps as an inferior race, more so for him after having grown up in a poor and decadent circus... It was a way to remind himself that if he didn't keep doing what he was so good at, he might end up in one of those miserable, stinking niches, with just a name and his dates, if they put them on... or else they'd put his sorry red ass in a mass grave or a car cemetery.
Sighing, Blitzø took a long stride to the area where the tombstones were large and beautiful, many decorated with flowers and decorations. His mother's grave was somewhat secluded, so Blitzø could speak to her quietly and even weep openly on the tombstone without fear that anyone would disturb him. And because of the almost absolute solitude in that place for his good fortune, he could talk to her out loud... Blitzø didn't give a shit that he looked ridiculous because Tilla would never answer him, no matter how much he wanted to.
...He was sure she could hear him, wherever she is now, the Double Hell or even a possible elsewhere for the hellborns.
"Hi, Momma. Having a good time, huh? Last time there were those assholes singing a whole opera for a nobleman, I thought their porpoise cries were going to make my ears bleed..."
Every time I went to visit her, after changing the bouquet of abyssal lilies (Tilla's favorites) and cleaning the slab of whatever dirt, grime and filth the birds or some drunk had left behind, Blitzø used to talk to her about how his day was going as head of a successful assassination company, how his employees and best friends loved him dearly and were happy to involve him in every moment of their lives, how the relationship with his daughter was so warm, cordial and full of trust...
...All with evasions, all with half-truths and literal outright lies to her, or rather to himself. Denying the constant calls and messages from creditors about his company's finances, denying the constant expressions of discomfort and anger from his employees when he went to stalk them in their own home, denying his daughter's sullen silences and her refusal to let him be an integral part of her life.
...Before this fiasco, it had been easy for Blitzø to lie to his mother, to put a pink filter on all the shit going on in his life. But now, every time he tried to put a funny, affable spin on his summary, it was as if everything that had happened at Ozzie's, what Stolas had said, his look full of pain and rejection... it was as if it was squeezing his heart and wracking his brain, to the point of making him say with a shaky sigh:
" ...I think, I think I fucked up, Momma. I fucked up horribly. And I don't know what the fuck to do to solve this."
And straight away, Blitzø spewed out everything that was clenching his heart, telling what had happened in that Asmodeus joint, how he had convinced Stolas to make it a date so he could follow his employees on their anniversary date, how it had all gone to shit as soon as Fizzarolli had noticed him, ruining their date... when if he was brutally honest with himself, he had ruined it from the start. And now he didn't know how to deal with his employees, or, much worse, with his... Lover? ? Friend, partner?
" ...I don't know that I don't know how to deal with this, Momma. Remember what Barbie used to say, that she'd rather hide that she'd spilled whiskey in the elephant trough than admit it to the Master of Ceremonies? It's like that, but worse... I know you'll tell me: "Blitzo, we have to be responsible for our actions, blah, bah", but how the fuck can I do that if everything I do I screw up even more...!
At this moment Blitzø was grateful that he had come to the cemetery on a weekday. Seeing the statues of fallen angels, of kneeling or closed-eyed characters, it was undoubtedly the resting places of high bourgeois and even members of the nobility... There was no way that the person of whom he was vomiting his afflictions was nearby, reaching to see him with the corner of his eye, thanks to his skills as an assassin...
...Oh, fuck it.
"...Satan shits on my dinner once again," Blitzø whispered in horror as he saw him in the distance, walking towards a row of graves in the same area.
He was walking alone, with no servant, not even with his beloved daughter, his eyes downcast and his pace faltering. He didn't have that soft and smug air of the proud bastard he used to display... It was identical to that look of despair he had given him on the steps of his palace. Blitzø had stood as still as a rabbit, foolishly thinking that if he stood so still he might even be invisible to his eyes... But to his surprise, it was as if Stolas hadn't even noticed him, something so unusual where he was concerned. He simply walked away, going to that place far away from that sector of the cemetery... Was he visiting someone, perhaps?
Blitzø didn't know why, he could have taken the opportunity to sneak back to the van and get out of there before meeting Stolas and that would lead to a conversation he didn't feel like having at the moment... But no, for some reason curiosity had gotten the better of him, starting to follow him silently.
...
Blitzø stopped against a large weeping willow tree, thick enough to hide behind. He could see him stop in front of a granite tombstone, rather plain compared to more ostentatious ones, surrounded by statues and flowers. It was still larger than Blitzø's mother's, adorned with a small obelisk full of little stars. Blitzø saw him bowing his head, as if praying or paying his respects... Who could it be? He knew that Stolas had always expressed a certain dislike for his fellow noblemen, especially those who were Stella's friends. Could it be a relative, a friend... an old flame he didn't know about? (He didn't know why, but that last one made his guts twist), it was too much curiosity, that he couldn't help but leave the safety of the tree to creep closer, stopping just under two meters from Stolas' back, reaching to read what was engraved on the tombstone in elegant calligraphy, one Blitzø had instantly recognized as having been done by Stolas himself:
Here lies
Lady Abalam Goetia, Duchess of Goetia.
Daughter, wife #36 and mother.
May her star continue to burn in the firmament.
"...Oh, shit." Blitzø whispered aloud without meaning to.
The reason for that was the framed picture next to the obelisk: A tall, beautiful owl lady demon with dark plumage, long hair falling down her back like a fan with a crown, the same soft, melancholy little smile as his own mother had... And the four red eyes that seemed to glow even in the old age of that photograph. It was like seeing Stolas. And precisely he was also portrayed there, small and tender, with the same smile he had seen the first time Blitzø met him because of his father's bastard who sold him as a...
...And then the Stolas of the present turned around abruptly, staring at him with his four red eyes.
Blitzø gulped, thinking the owl was going to vaporize him with just a blink of an eye, wishing he would be swallowed up by the ground. He opened his mouth to say any funny shit to try to get out of this quagmire, but the word died in his throat as he looked into his eyes: The expression of the once mighty Prince of the Ars Goetia was distant, dull and tired, as if he had not slept at all in several days; as if the dark shadows surrounding his four red eyes were not proof enough.
For a moment that seemed absurdly long, the Goetia and the imp stared at each other, saying nothing. One of them would grimace and lift his lips to try to say something, only to close his mouth and look awkwardly at the other side... Both thought of going the other way, with Blitzø turning away, or Stolas vanishing through some portal, but neither did anything. More than a week of distance, silences and denial loomed large, at the same time as if it had never existed.
...As if the embarrassing date at Ozzie's had only just happened last night.
Blitzø sighed. It was one thing to avoid his employees or even his daughter, but this was different. It was like seeing one of his worst mistakes planted in his face. "Satan shits on my dinner once again." he repeated to himself mentally.
...Finally Stolas saved his ass: The owl smiled faintly, but not with his eyes.
"...Hello Blitzø. What a... coincidence to see you here."
Blitzø couldn't help but be surprised: He hadn't called him 'Blitzy' or anything like that.
"Heh, what can I say? I had some free time and took the opportunity to pay a visit."
"Oh, do you have someone buried in this area? It's a graveyard used mostly by Goetias and Overlords." Stolas said.
"I wouldn't let my momma be put in some car graveyard or some shitty mass grave like my cocksucker father, she deserves the best even if she's dead!" Blitzø exclaimed without thinking, realizing it as soon as he finished. He looked ashamedly at Stolas, for he had never told him anything about his mother. He mentally cursed himself, but the owl gave a smile.
"...Of course. A mother always deserves the best, especially one as loving as yours surely was," Blitzø frowned, but Stolas nodded, "I can tell by the way you just referred to her."
Blitzø reddened. He was getting to very personal points that he wasn't ready to address, least of all after the sad last time they had spoken after parting ways. Clearing his throat, the imp pointed to the grave behind Stolas.
"Is she...?"
The prince turned his head and gazed at the tombstone, along with the portrait. A more sincere smile crept across his beak.
"Yes, my mother. Lady Abalam was an extraordinary demon, she knew everything about plants. I can still remember how she built the palace garden all by herself, our best moments were when she invited me to water and trim the flowers."
Blitzø nodded, looking at the beautiful and delicate face of the demon Goetia. Stolas' palace garden was beautiful and full of lush plants, different from the dead little plant he had in his office... As he read the tombstone again, he noticed a detail that he could not help but ask aloud:
"...Wife #36?"
Stolas grimaced: "My father, Paimon, had a lot of descendants. He changed wives like he changed underpants. And I think he did more of the former than the latter, honestly."
Blitzø couldn't help laughing: Stolas could tell good jokes when he put his mind to it.
"That doesn't surprise me, really. No offense, but your dad was..."
"An old bastard, just like your own father?" Blitzø reflexively wanted to deny it, but he knew it was true: He had just admitted it. Reluctantly, Blitzø nodded, "It seems we have something in common despite everything."
"That our parents were shitty?"
"...More like, that we had loving mothers we wish were here." Stolas paused. "...I heard you as I was walking by."
"Yeah, I thought I was alone," Blitzø chuckled, smiling resignedly, "Me and my big fucking mouth."
"Don't blame yourself, I didn't think anyone would be here today anyway. I came on an impulse, to do some thinking," Stolas replied simply. Again Blitzø was surprised: He had literally given Stolas an opportunity to make some dirty, sexual remark, but he didn't.
...It was so different from more than a week ago. When Blitzø had left him at the entrance to his palace, believing there was a sexual intent at the thought of staying to watch a movie or just cuddling. He had left him alone with that sad expression, getting as far away as he could from that expression, from those pleas... from the fucking shame that was stepping on his tail. Everything he had poured out in front of his mother's grave, looking for a way to let it out, to stop feeling that horrible feeling that had been fucking him up all that week, had materialized in that instant in front of him, visiting someone he had loved dearly and lost, just like him... And when he opened his mouth to finally broach the subject, Stolas surprised him again for the third time.
"...I want to apologize, Blitz."
Blitzø's jaw dropped. "The fuck...?"
"These last few days I've had a lot of time to reflect on what happened, on everything that went into bringing about this ending." Stolas lowered his four eyes, "I haven't exactly been subtle or discreet with our agreement, much less kind or fair to you. What Asmodeus and Fizzarolli said... It wasn't a lie: I've used you for nothing more than venting about my very complicated life, not least because of Stella and the way she's treated me since the beginning of our marriage, doing so without taking into account your feelings or what you really thought. I don't want to justify myself for what I did, but... I couldn't help it, I really needed an outlet, a moment to escape... But I did it in a very bad way, hurting you, Blitz. And I'm really sorry, if I could take back the time, I..."
"Are you done spitting out your apology yet?!" Blitzø interrupted him with a pained expression on his face, "Shut up, just shut up, don't go on with this!"
"B-but, Blitz, I have to say it, I have to..."
"No, I have to say it or my stupid ass will make me shut down again and not say it!" Blitzø sputtered. "If you had hurt me, I hurt you too and worse. From the moment I broke into your palace to steal your book, then with Ozzie's, the only reason I invited there was so they would let me in to spy on my employees on their date, because I'm pathetic, I'm an asshole, I'm a piece of shit, everything they and Verosika said about me was true!"
"...Yeah, I saw that. They completely forgot about your little employee and showed off with you like a Roman coliseum," Stolas grimaced, "And well, I figured out why you invited me. You spent the whole time with those binoculars looking at your employees' table... You really want what they have, huh?"
"What? Of course not, how ridiculous!" Blitzø snorted, rolling his eyes. "Why would I want what those two lovebirds have, that they can walk around sucking each other's lips like it's the first day, that they only have eyes for each other, that they're not afraid to show their lovey-dovey bullshit to everyone, even in front of fucking Asmodeus...?!" He stopped suddenly, slapping his forehead, "I'm just fucking up with every word I'm saying, am I?"
"Not really, Blitz," Stolas replied with a chuckle, "We all want love in our lives. That's what I want, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. And I have the perception that you want that too."
The imp was speechless with his response. He wanted to scream at Stolas that was a fucking lie, that he had no fucking idea what he was talking about, but he couldn't find the words to deny the enormous evidence rubbed against his face... he could only lower his head, clenching his jaw.
"Stolas..."
"That's what I think, Blitz. I don't know about you, but I think we're both looking for that. Our mothers didn't have that opportunity with those husbands they had, but maybe we can, if they raised us with all the love they were capable of... Since they left, we've been alone, wandering like strangers in the night, two lonely people..."
Blitzø smiled crookedly: "...You got that last one out of a stupid corny song, didn't you?"
"Hey, it's a nice song and you know it." laughed Stolas, with Blitzø laughing as well.
They stood in silence for a moment, listening to the quiet mortuary sounds of the gravestones and trees nearby. It was no lie what some said, that in a cemetery it is not only for sorrowful moments, but also for reflection. Even in a tired expression, the owl had a small smile, which he had dedicated to him a few times... It was so different from the butchered, lecherous, perverted smile he used to give her when he was repressed, craving some 'imp juicy cock'... Blitzø sighed, smiling resignedly.
"...And here I thought I could get away from everyone today to visit my mother and here I find you. You have a bad fucking habit of getting in my way, you know that?"
"Oh, Blitzø, you know I teach astrology and the designs of the stars to other demons and humans. And while the future is not written in stone, I still believe that there is a cosmic force that guides our steps and actions. It is something that I believe happened here as well. Just as it happened the first time... And it will continue to happen, because I really believe it..." His expression was longing. "Because I still want it to happen."
Blitzø looked down, overwhelmed.
" ...Why do you insist on that? Didn't it become clear to you that I suck for you, that my love life and my life in general is a fucking rat's nest that everyone else runs away from...? No, that I purposely push away?" He had the same pained expression as that night when he raised his head, thanks to Stolas' fingers. "Why...?"
" ...I ask you the same question myself, Blitzø. If you know that I also suck for you, that my love life and general life is also a fucking rat's nest, and not only because of Stella..." He stroked his cheek, where a trail of tears had begun to fall unnoticed. "I'll tell you why in my case: Because you're worth it."
Now Blitzø was really having a hard time not to cry, even if he did look like an idiot. He wanted to run, but at the same time his boots were stuck in the wet grass... He swallowed saliva and closed his eyes, as if waiting for the executioner's blade. Stolas' touch on his cheek 'hurt' as much as the caress of a knife, because it was like receiving something he didn't deserve to receive in the first place.
"Stolas..."
"Blitzø, you're really worth it. And I think it's worth another try.. This time without any unfair treatment, without having to go to my house every full moon out of obligation..." Blitzø's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something, but Stolas added: "...You can still use the book, I will only ask you to return it to me when I need it and keep it safe as you have always done... as well as continue to see you, but you don't have to sleep with me if you don't want to."
" ...And what would we do if it's not sex? I mean, what do couples do if they don't have sex all the time?" Blitzø asked, even though deep down he knew the answer...
...He could see it all the time he was spying on Moxxie and Millie in their apartment, when they were watching TV, playing board games, reading, talking, cooking, cleaning up... Lots of things besides her pegging him hard in the bed or on the couch.
Stolas lowered his eyelids.
" ...For example, getting to know each other better. I know you like palace's food, but I don't know what your favorite food is."
"Well, it's definitely NOT those birdseed cakes you eat," Blitzø mumbled, glancing sideways at the corner where Tilla's grave was, with the bouquet of abyssal lilies gently fluttering in the wind... Turning to look at Stolas, he asked, "Do you know WackDonalds?"
"WackDonalds? No idea what that is... Does it have to do with sushi or caviar?" Stolas asked innocently, much to Blitzø's amusement.
"...No, dumb-dumb. But I can't tell you: WackDonalds has to be experienced rather than explained," Blitzø looked around, rubbing his claws together. "So... if you don't have boring real homework to do or put up with yelling from your ex-wife, I... Well... I was wondering..."
...He shuddered as he felt the huge claw of the Ars Goetia wrap around his smaller claw in a warm and gentle way, not at all possessive. He looked up and saw Stolas smile in a way that seemed to light up his pale face.
"I'd love to, Blitzø."
...Blitzø usually made his decisions the way he usually drove, with his foot on the gas and in a hurry, predictably crashing in the end. Perhaps this time doing it slowly might be different. Even if a small part of him kept saying he would end up crashing just the same, he still wanted to try.
Because it was worth it. It will worth it. Will worth it doing (this time) the things right.