"Are you going to tell me what is going on? Or are you just going to ignore the fact you've been gone for a week straight?"

(God, was he really that bad at keeping secrets?)

"Loony, I just have some things I had to get settled with a few clients." He explained, quickly clicking his weapon case shut.

"Clients? Really?" He could feel his daughter's eyes burning into his horns with her clip on sarcasm. "Where then? Where were you?" She protested, crossing her arms. Her tail swayed in agitation.

(He couldn't confess. Not now. Not ever.)

"I was in the Wrath Ring for a little, okay? I had to even out some unfinished business." Blitzo dismissed, praying she would change the subject. But she was stubborn as always, just like her father.

Loona's snout crinkled for a moment, her eyes running ramped around the room in order to find something breakable. She failed at doing so, her arms dropped back down to her sides - then back up as if they couldn't make their minds. "I know when you're bullshitting me." She growled, eyes narrowed.

He shot back the same glare, sliding his dark black and yellow trimmed case under the bed. He wished he could follow. That wouldn't work well, maybe popping his neck back into place at best.

(He couldn't lie. Not to his own kid. His daughter— right?)

He didn't know why, or how he came to the terms of his actions. The slight relaxation of his shoulders, the deep exhale of air that escaped his lungs, the pressing sensation of lies and sin.

Blitzo was a good person. Back then maybe.

"You want the truth?" He asked back dryly, so dry she thought she might've needed a bottle of Beelzebub's liquor.

Loona's breath hitched in a tight squeeze. "Yeah." She nodded.

"I didn't leave."

"Leave what?" Arms folding again.

"The Pride Ring."

"Okay, and?" She prodded a little. Leaning on with her softer tone. She could see it in his face. His eyes got heavier, more irritated and swollen. His gaze turned rugged, his sharp chill lifted to a dullness she couldn't put a finger on.

Blitzo looked down for a moment, guilty. "You might want to sit down for this." He motioned with a pat to the seat next to him, she was being invited into a deep hole.

She accepted. "Okay."

Blitzo hugged his last suspire with all his might. Exhaled. "When I was younger, stupid without Fizz, or Millie, or Moxxie. You." He began. "I had another job, before I started I.M.P. To keep money in."

"And that was….?" She lingered.

He warily gestured to the gun resting on his hip. "Killing people."

Loona blinked, still drawn in to listen.

"Not humans though. Sometimes on bad occasions I had to, but I never did until I.M.P." His eyes slowly shut, he couldn't meet her gaze. Her presiding gaze softened his insides. "I killed— demons." He felt her silent gasp.

(Did he go too far now?)

He mustered to continue. To spill. The weight being lifted was enticing. "—I never enjoyed it. In fact, I hated it. To this day. But I had to in order to get money in. To find my own way…. alone. I was part of this stingy program back then. Not the new shit you see on TV." His arms rested on his knees, legs trembling. "I did Angel work."

(It is gone now?)

Loona's lips curled in tightly, fighting back the urge to speak. To allow him to finally explain his wrongs.

"But when I had you, Loona. I quit. Because I didn't want you to grow up knowing the blood I spilt in the past. For something we were against— so you wouldn't become…..become—" He hesitated, the watering feeling in his swelling cheeks erupted inside. He looked blankly into the wall.

"….Like you?" Loona quietly whispered, nudging closer.

Blitzo couldn't find a single word coming out of his mouth, only the small, vigorous nods of agreement.

It pained him to finally admit his stupid mistakes. He'd routed for the opposite team all those years ago. Was he still one? Deep down? A cold blooded killer that only cared about the task at hand?

His thoughts spiraled, but his body stayed still. Feeling the quietly wrapped arms around his torso, and the small pressure on top of his head and horns. Loona was hugging him. Hugging. Physical attention he didn't queue.

"Just breathe, Dad."

(Showing feelings meant you were weak. Right?)

Again, he didn't reply, the tears were streaming, and his body was shaking towards the magnetic pull of Loona's warm body and embrace. His head tucked into the crevice of her armpit.

He sobbed. He cried.

But it was all okay.

It was okay now.

He really wasn't alone.

Never.

It just took a little bit longer to realize it.