"Get out"
Moxie and Millie blink back at their boss. They were both concerned, but it was Millie who spoke up first.
"Are you sure you don't want-"
"It's been a very long day and Loonie needs to get home now." There was no smile on Blitz's face, and any pleasantries in his voice were worn thin. He couldn't be having whatever conversation Millie wanted to force on him right now.
"Right, it's just. The van..."
"Is mine" Blitz finished her sentence "And you have two god damn seconds to get out of it before you're both out of a job."
Moxxie slid off of Millie's lap and opened the car's front door. He jumped down to the sidewalk in front of their apartment and reached for Millie's hand. He motioned for her to join him. Millie frowned, but did as Blitz asked and got out of the car.
Blitz sped off as soon as her feet touched the ground.
Loona had fallen asleep as soon as she'd hit the floor of the van back in Sloth. Blitz considered leaving her there for the night, but couldn't bring himself to do it. She deserved her bed, even if might be a fight to get her there. The growl that Loona gave when Blitz told her it was time to get up was far less scary than the bits of feather and blue blood staining his seats.
Blitz hadn't known Stolas could get hurt.
He was tougher than his emotions, smarter too. With a deep breath and the familiar pinch of his claws digging into his palm, Blitz was able to swallow down his emotions and forget about them. Loona needed to get inside.
The doctor had said Loona may be out of it for a little while after receiving her shot and the fight they endured to get the hound her vaccine had been tiring. His daughter was all growl and no bite by the time they'd gotten back to Pride. She was hardly a fight as Blitz got her upstairs and tucked into bed (or well, dropped off at her door. Blitz wasn't allowed inside her room).
She might be the one thing he hadn't ruined.
The van needed to be cleaned. Blitz knew how to clean blood out of upholstery, he knew how to clean Stolas's blood from upholstery, it's not as if they hadn't had their fun before. Stolas hadn't been afraid of knives or pain. He f*cking asked for the bear traps. Blitz had seen Stolas hurt many times, he'd always been fine.
Blitz hadn't known Stolas could get hurt.
Blitz stopped by the kitchen before starting his work on the van. He poured dish soap in a large bowl until it covered the bottom and filled it with hot water. He grabbed towels, additional cleaners, and a wire brush. He grabbed a bottle of liquor from the cabinet, there was no way he was doing this without a drink.
Starting was the first step. Blitz started on the bottle before he started on the van. He didn't know where to start with the van. Feathers, he supposed. He could pick up feathers.
There were too many feathers.
How many times had the feathers been annoying? A disturbance? They were something to disrupt a meeting when Blitz would accidentally cough one up. They were something that needed to be preened, which meant watching Stolas groom himself for hours sometimes after a rough night between the two of them. They were itchy, and ticklish, and annoying. But these feathers were damaged. These feathers were sad. There were so many of them.
Blitz didn't count how many feathers there were in total but there was enough to make a small bouquet of them. He wondered how many more were back at Striker's. Blitz cursed himself for forgetting a trash can. He couldn't abandon the small collection of feathers he'd collected. He put them on the front seat for now.
He needed a break. Blitz sat on the floor of the van with his feet dangling from the opening in the side. He pulled his phone out and took a drink. He looked through his photos: Loona's adoption Day, Lunch with M&M, him and Verosika, him and Fizz. He stops on the picture of him and Stolas. The Royal loved documenting their time together but he didn't know about this picture. He didn't know the way Blitz smiled while Feathers hooted quietly in his ear as he slept. Stolas didn't know that Blitz took pictures of them while Stolas was sleeping, when Blitz was allowed to be his most vulnerable.
Blitz focused on a blood stain in his peripheral. He looked back at the photo. The two images couldn't be any more different.
He hadn't known Stolas could get hurt.
Blitz brought to the bottle to his lips and tipped it back once more. He rolled up his sleeves and got back to work.
Working was easier than thinking. It was easier than feeling. It accomplished something, more than feeling ever did. Blitz scrubbed until his arms hurt, until his chest heaved from exertion and he couldn't feel anymore because everything hurt, so nothing hurt. Her only managed two of the stains. He hadn't yet touched the worst of them.
If Stolas dies he might have to sell the van. He couldn't even begin to think about that.
"Stolas is fine. He's a prince, he's....powerful. He'll be fine." There was nobody around for Blitz convince other than himself, and even then he didn't feel that convinced of his words.
His answer is weren't at the bottom of that bottle. The world was swaying peacefully. Blitz had tipped over tipsy but was still able to feel his face and several bruised ribs from earlier today. He abandoned the van and walked off.
It wasn't hard to find a distraction in Pride. Wether it be drugs or sex or some other vice, Blitz was sure to find something that would help him numb. He was too far from the Royal circle to walk, but if he could have that's where Blitz would have ended up. Instead he ended up at a bar.
Blitz lasted two drinks before getting kicked out, but managed to swipe a bottle of something off the bottom shelf on the way. He could feel a throbbing in his jaw from where he'd been punched, but the rest of his face was sufficiently numb. He swayed along the sidewalk as he returned home. He had almost forgotten why he'd even gotten drunk in the first place.
The bloodstains were still in the carpet of the van. The seat might as well just be dyed to match at this point. No, die it black. This shade of dark blue is sickening.
No it's not, blood is cool!
Blitz thinks today he might side with Fizzarolli. There is nothing cool about the attempted murder scene in the back of his van. Blitz isn't excited at the sight of this, he's horrified. It takes a lot to gross Blitz out. He sits on the sidewalk for a while to catch his breath.
Soap and water and elbow grease hadn't been enough to get the stains out. He tries something more stringent. Bleach may eat away at the fabric if he doesn't stop scrubbing, but at least the blood will be gone.
I think you should come and save me!
Blitz hadn't known Stolas could get hurt. Stolas hadn't even sounded scared on the phone. Had he been scared later?
"No, f*cking stop it!" Blitz slapped himself with his own tail. Worrying wasn't going to do anything. He didn't want to feel right now.
This wasn't his fault. Blitz couldn't be to blame. He didn't know how much danger the prince was in, it wasn't his job to protect Stolas, he had a duty to his daughter. It was all just.....really bad. It wasn't his fault.
Then why did Blitz feel so f*cking guilty?
He found half a pack of cigarettes under the passenger seat and took another break. The burn of the smoke was nice. The immediate little rush that came to his head after the first smoke was nice. The stars were nice.
No, the stars were Stolas.
Blitz looked up at the sky. There weren't many stars that could be seen from the streets of Imp City. With the lights and Blitz's unsteadiness they all sort of blurred together. The stars were falling, Stolas was hurt. He hadn't known Stolas could get hurt.
"f*ck, Birdie." There was no coo in reply, no gentle hoot, no amusing quip that went halfway over Blitz's head half the time. Blitz turned his head and remembered just how alone he was.....On the edge of his van, talking to a bird shaped blood stain, doing everything in his power to just forget. If he could erase Stolas from his memory, he could save himself from the pain of losing him.
Blitz touched the skull on his choker, his only living memory of his mother. Tears sprang to his eyes.
For a moment Blitz considered lighting the van on fire. All he would have to do was drop his cigarette in the right spot. He could even stay right where he was, he could blow up with it. That would save everyone so much pain. It wasn't his fault Stolas got hurt, but Blitz knew deep down it was.
Blitz only entertained the thought for a moment. Loona was inside, sleeping and unaware of what had happened today. He couldn't have her wake up to that. He knew she would be fine on her own, but Blitz didn't need to die today. Not everyone had left him just yet.
Blitz finished the last of his drink and thew the bottle outside hard enough to shatter it. He took off his coat and wadded it up until it was vaguely something he could hold onto. He curled on the backseat next to the larger blood stain. He tried not to think about it. Blitz looked at his phone one more time, at the photo Stolas was never supposed to know about, but now may never get the chance to. Blitz had done everything in his power not to feel but he couldn't help it.
Stolas might die and it was all his fault.
Blitz started to type out a message to Stolas. He wanted to wish him better, to tell him he was sorry he was hurt. He considered apologizing for not being there. He fell asleep before he could do much more than type out one message, let alone send it. It was his best attempt at telling Stolas how he felt.
GIT BEVVER SWOON :(
