Chapter Text
One year. It had been exactly one year since the events of the Harvest Moon Festival, and already so much had changed for Moxxie. Blitz had started to take his role as company founder a little more seriously. And since his employer had been pursuing an actual honest relationship with Stolas for a few months now, he didn’t bother snooping through the thespian’s personal life as much anymore, much to his relief.
Along with that, during this period of change that brought forth some inevitable confusion and uncertain emotions for everyone, Loona ended up getting affected more directly than anticipated. Insecurities and fears peaked and there was a time this overly strong discomfort that thickened the air with tension resulted in petty fighting and almost broke the team apart.
But through it all, somehow, with talking, and trying, wanting in the end to stay together and be there for each other, father and daughter managed to patch things up.
Millie had helped keep things light and optimistic, but Moxxie was the one who had stepped up, calling out everyone on their bullshit and refusing to let these changes split their group. Because like it or not, Blitz had managed to get into his head about this one and he was right. They were a family now damn it! And that was NOT going to change!
In the end, things settled. And the young hellhound had since gained some respect for Moxxie. She still made fun of him here and there, but she didn’t bother recording his most embarrassing moments and then posting them for all of hell to see. Loona even gave him a backwards compliment or two whenever he did manage to pull off something impressive. And of course the freckled imp returned the favor whenever he felt it was necessary.
But what was perhaps most surprising was the recent new addition in his life. And the beginning of that had been linked to the events of that Harvest Moon festival exactly one year ago. The addition in question being that arrogant snake demon.
Striker.
That first encounter led to others. Each one initially worse than the last. Animosity and antagonism peaking higher and higher with every confrontation. And after having endured multiple of them, there came a fight that would forever change their lives.
Moxxie had followed a lead that led him to an abandoned warehouse located on the more questionable side of IMP City. It was here he found the deadly outlaw and the two proceeded to face off against each other. Striker was mocking as usual, using lethal and fast precision to make certain on tying up loose ends. The hit on the Prince had taken so long that it was becoming dangerous for him.
But it was also when Moxxie had had enough. And Striker’s ferocious tenacity in battle steeled his resolve not to lose at all costs. Because if he collapsed in fear like the others expected, he felt as though he’d lose a part of himself; his pride and his dignity. And he would not allow anyone to take that away from him.
After what felt like an eternity, Moxxie finally got the upper hand. Instead of using feats of physical strength, the little imp used the environment around him to outsmart the rattlesnake. With great speed and agility, he dodged every blow and gunshot Striker threw at him.
And finally, using the serpentine imp’s own blessed revolver, Moxxie delivered a near fatal shot, causing him to fall to the ground, the swift and excessive blood loss bringing him close to unconsciousness and on the brink of death. The freckled imp stood over his body, watching the rise and fall of Striker’s chest as he began to take his final breaths. If he did not receive medical attention soon, he would die.
Everything inside Moxxie told him to leave Striker for dead, especially considering all the horrible things he had done. But this… it still felt so wrong.
Striker had looked up at him with a feral glow in his eyes. Spitting whispered insults between his teeth and absolutely refusing to accept any pity from him. Yet still, Moxxie didn’t see the wounded monster he was so desperately trying to convey. No… what he saw was a fellow imp in pain. A fellow survivor so to speak. And he couldn’t bring himself to end it all.
Moxxie clumsily helped him to his feet, paying no mind to the hisses and growls Striker sent his way. He had been too weak and heavily wounded to do anything about it other than let himself get dragged out of the warehouse they were once fighting in. Striker gave a very odd look at Moxxie who used his body as a crutch for them to reach Bombproof who was left hitched to a post outside. After bringing him to the hospital, he left. No blackmail and no ulterior motives.
Striker didn’t understand it back then.
A few months later, following the events of some awkward meetings, a whole lot of trouble, and a final reconciliation after having to deal with and eventually accepting the fact that Stella had used him as a disposable pawn and quickly turned on him, Striker had to save himself and ended up reaching out to I.M.P to make a deal and work with them. And then things started to change.
At the time, he couldn’t comprehend his feelings towards Moxxie. But, looking back on it now, he understood what he felt.
Since that life-changing encounter, Striker had gained a new-found respect for the thespian. Never had he come that close to death, and from someone he underestimated, no less, yet, been shown such selfless kindness at the same time.
Out of necessity at first, but then out of habit, spending more time together resulted in his animosity towards Moxxie to become subdued. In its place the remnants of antagonism brought out a thrill of mutually challenging each other and, moreover, discovering more things in common than first realized. And eventually sparked something else.
It was here Striker had finally come to recognize the type of person Moxxie truly was. Moxxie was a kind, selfless, loyal, driven, and loving person. But he was far from weak. Underneath that soft exterior was a cold, calculating killer, one of the best professionals Striker had ever seen.
He was the only one smart enough to see through the serpentine imp’s friendly demeanor, the only one to never let their guard down while in his presence. These feats were most admirable in the cowboy’s opinion. But that admiration quickly grew into desire. All he wanted was to be in the little imp’s presence.
He wanted to hold him.
To please him.
To still tease him.
He wanted HIM .
Striker wanted to be a part of Moxxie’s life and for all the world to see that and back off. That was when he decided to officially call him his.
‘Boyfriend’ wasn’t even a concept in his mind prior to this. Nothing implying such… commitment had ever even crossed his mind, yet that was what he proposed to Moxxie. Part of Striker had expected to be greeted with a harsh rejection, a consequence of his later regretful actions in regards to how their first meeting went. He deserved it, really. But, thankfully, by some hellish miracle, the freckled imp was willing to give him a chance. A couple of dates later, and against all logical odds, the two shared a tender kiss in the comfort of an acidic storm.
It was the best kiss he ever had.
All those sloppy one night stand make outs were nothing compared to the warm loving embrace of Moxxie’s lips against his. His sweet taste was intoxicating.
Less than sweet, however, was the choice he had to make afterwards.
Naturally, the thespian’s marriage wasn’t a place for cheating or secrets. When Striker asked Moxxie out, the imp couple talked a lot about it before deciding to open up their relationship. Millie was suspicious at first. They did have history. And well… she might have been a little jealous too. From the moment Striker started working for I.M.P, her sharp mind instantly caught wind of the feelings he and Moxxie were beginning to develop for each other.
The country girl knew it was only a matter of time before her husband would eventually fall for the rattlesnake and be left with the heartbreaking decision of choosing which relationship he wanted to pursue. She could have forbidden it. There was admittedly a part of her that was afraid of losing him, despite the overwhelming evidence of his devotion. Still, the heart is a fragile little thing. And knowing that as well as how Moxxie would be overcome by guilt that would paralyze him for the rest of his life, they decided to give it a go and see how it went. With her knives on standby, of course.
For Striker it was much more difficult. If he wanted Moxxie, he had to accept that Millie was part of the package too. And for someone who never had, nor wanted, to share anything in his life, it was quite an infuriating thing to get through. But his desire to have Moxxie and his happiness was stronger. So Striker caved in to their demands, but the joy he received in return was well worth it.
However, just because things were getting better doesn’t mean he was feeling better.
It was quite the opposite, in fact. The little imp’s joy came to a crashing halt when it was discovered that Millie’s parents had invited them all back for the festival. He so desperately wanted to say no. That house had been home to too many bad memories. The worst one being the most recent where his pride had taken one hell of a beating.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, his in-laws forgave and accepted Striker into the family with open arms. This only served to further sullen Moxxie’s mood to the point where he became depressed.
Fortunately, nobody bothered to tease him this time around, but that was likely due to his more intimidating partners. Still, Moxxie had decided to keep to himself and remained quiet throughout the whole trip. Only speaking when spoken to and making sure to keep his sentences short so as not to bore anyone.
This was something that did not go unnoticed by Millie. Moxxie had this nasty habit of disappearing whenever he felt like that. Before she knew it, he had sneaked away somewhere. She tried in vain to find her husband so they could discuss it, but he was damn good at being untraceable when he wanted to. After her search proved unsuccessful, she turned to the only other person she could think of, finding him casually leaning against the house with a wheatstock in his mouth.
“Hey Striker.” Millie waved with a shaky smile.
Striker looked down at her and smiled, “Hello there, Mildred.” he greeted with a tip of his hat, “How ya doin’?”
Millie sheepishly grabbed a hold of her upper arm, “Not great. Have you seen Moxxie anywhere?” she asked. It was hard to hide her increasingly growing concern.
The serpentine imp’s smile vanished in the blink of an eye as his expression grew morose, “Yeah, I have. Little dude usually takes to the fields after fixing up a meal and doin’ chores,” he answered, gesturing to the brush of trees on their side, “It looked like he didn’t wanna talk, so I let him be.”
“Oh.”
Striker then flicked his wheatstock to the side, “Has he… said anything since we got here? About me, or…”
Millie shook her head in rejection, “No, nothin’ like that. He’ll just answer a few questions and then leave. I think he’s avoiding folk on purpose.”
An awkward stillness temporarily swept upon both parties as each stood there with their eyes aimlessly wandering the area, trying to find a subject of conversation.
“I wish I could take back what I did.”
This caught the cowgirl by surprise. A prideful man like Striker wasn’t one to admit when he had made a mistake, so for him to come out and confess his feelings of regret made Millie truly believe that he did indeed care for Moxxie. And thus, her trust in him grew exponentially.
“The important thing is that you’ve turned yourself around.” she said with a reassuring smile.
“I know, but I wish there was something I could do to make it up to him.” he said, crossing his arms.
Millie took a finger to her chin, “Maybe there is… I have an idea.”
Striker grew intrigued, leaning in closer to hear what she had to say.
After dinner, many of the residents had taken to the festival grounds to either participate in the games, or observe them from the stands. All except for Millie who had sauntered into the kitchen and found Moxxie washing the dishes. With a worrisome sigh, she cautiously approached him, placing her hand on his shoulder to get his attention.
“Moxxie?”
This action startled Moxxie, unintentionally causing him to drop a plate and shatter upon impact.
“Millie! I’m so sorry, I… shit-”
“Don’t worry sweetie, it’s alright. It’s just a plate.” Millie then straightened herself up and dawned a smug smile, “You, however, are irre- plate -able.” she warmly joked, playfully poking the center of Moxxie’s face. Her husband let out a giggle in response, causing her expression to turn bittersweet. It was the first time she had heard him laugh since they returned to her family’s farm.
“I was just wonderin’ if you were gonna come with me to cheer on Striker and Blitz.”
Moxxie clenched his fist, his eyes wandering around the room so as to avert her gaze. “Oh, um… I’ll be ready in a moment. I just need to finish up with… this.” he remarked, gesturing to the sink with his free hand.
Millie looked down into the sink and noticed a few drops of fresh blood beside the shattered dish. Her eyes then wandered to the source; a tiny river of blood rolling down from Moxxie’s knuckles.
“You’re hurt.” she acknowledged, reaching out to attend to his injury.
Moxxie retracted from her, pulling his hand towards his chest. “It’s fine, honey, just a scratch.”
Millie stood still for a moment, then gently took a hold of his hand, pushing his fingers aside. There in the center of his palm was a mild cut. She squeezed his shoulder lightly in reassurance.
“I’ll go get the kit.”
Moxxie nodded, watching as his wife darted out of the kitchen in search of the bathroom. When she returned, Millie brought the first aid kit and wore a concerned expression on her face as she proceeded to clean the wound with a wet rag; patting it softly so as to avoid any discomfort
“...Do you wanna talk about it?”
“About what?” he deflected. Moxxie knew exactly what she was referring to.
“About being here after all that happened? You know… with you, and Striker, and the games. You didn’t have to join us if you didn’t want to.”
Moxxie took a breath. Absent-mindedly watching as his wife cleaned away the blood.
“No really, it’s fine, I wanted to be here. Anywhere with you and Striker is always nice. And Wrath is lovely this time of year.”
Millie bit her lip in hesitation, “Well… alright, if you say so. But if you change your mind, just say the word and I’ll take you back to the station.”
“Okay.”
After that, Millie sprayed on the antiseptic and wrapped the injury in a fabric bandage.
“And… there!” she smiled, reaching forward to peck husband on his cheek, “You’re all fixed up.”
“I feel better already.” he replied, looking at her with a goofy lovestruck smile plastered on his face.
“Glad to hear. Now, ya still wanna come with me to the games?”
Moxxie shook his head.
“No, that’s okay. I still need to finish up here.”
“Okay then, I’ll see ya later, Moxxie. I love you!”
“Bye honey, I love you too.”
The country girl then waved her husband goodbye, Moxxie returning the gesture as he watched her exit the farmhouse. Millie proceeded towards the town hall where the games were being held, leaving the thespian by his lonesome. She took her place in the bleachers, choosing to sit in a higher spot so that she could get a better look at the competitors below. It was then that her cheerful smile slipped and turned into a troubled thin line.
Well… obviously he wasn’t okay. It wasn’t hard to understand why, even if he was being stubborn about it.
Moreover, the fact that her family had been so quick to look past Striker’s previous transgressions and her dad had not so sublty been thrilled to have him and her in a relationship couldn’t have been a good thing for anyone.
Oh, if only they knew this arrangement only existed because of Moxxie. Yeah, that’s right! Little Moxxie who they looked so down on had managed to do all that. He was the one who bested someone like Striker fair and square. He had been the better man at handling dangerous situations and bitter foes. Hell, he even had another powerful demon fall for him besides the beautiful bruiser she-imp. How’s that for accomplishments?
Millie had been pissed. That whole situation was really uncalled for. And it didn’t take a genius to see how it affected Moxxie even more, besides the obvious can of worms this place opened up. That whole treatment re-ignited all his biting insecurities about being accepted. Completely unnecessarily. She absolutely needed to settle things once and for all. Give her folks a piece of her mind after the games. Enough was enough.
Things have obviously changed. A whole lot. If she was being honest with herself, the events of their previous visit felt like a lifetime ago. If anything, the mere fact that she had thought to reach out to Striker without much hesitation instead of putting her body in front of him to protect her sweetheart was a strong indication. That was truly something.
Millie smiled to herself amused with the thought.
Still, it’s not that they could simply erase what had happened here. Even if it was nothing more but a bad memory now. She hoped things would turn out differently for him tonight. For both of them.
Meanwhile, Striker and Blitz chatted amongst themselves as they made their way to the start line of the first act.
“You’re in a cockier mood than usual.” noted Blitz.
“I got somethin’ extra special planned tonight after my victory.” Striker smugly replied, folding his arms behind his head.
“Your victory? What makes you think you’re gonna beat me this time?” he asked, sporting a challenging smile as he crossed his arms.
“Cause I’m the best. Last year was just a lucky shot.”
“Oh, it was a shot alright.” the ex-clown rolled his eyes, remembering how last year ended up with literal gunfire. He then leaned in closer to the cowboy, raising his brow in curiosity, “So cowpoke, what’cha planning tonight?”
“That’s for me to know, and you not to find out.”
“Awww c’mon, you can tell me!”
Striker shook his head in rejection, “No can do, bossman. Besides, I’m sure you have your matters to attend to.” he remarked, gesturing to the excited goetia sitting in the exclusive section of the stands. Blitz turned and gave an awkward wave in his boyfriend’s direction. He wasn’t used to the feeling of having someone who genuinely cared about him support him in something like this. And to that Striker could definitely relate.
Blitz and Striker lined up with every other participant and looked up in anticipation. Wally Wackford gave the countdown. And fired his pistol. The race had begun!
Everyone clamored towards the wall, but Striker and Blitz were the only ones that made it there first. When they reached the top, the spotted imp tried to use the same maneuver that scored him his victory in the past. But this time he was playfully pulled by the ankle as the cowboy launched himself over the shark-infested pond and back onto the track.
Striker dashed across the finish line with Blitz being just a few seconds behind him. Blitz cursed up a storm and the rattlesnake offered a teasing snicker, glowing with satisfaction as he was greeted by an adoring crowd, cheering happily for his first victory. He turned to the audience with a smug grin, proudly soaking up the attention like a dry sponge. After a few moments, his eyes naturally went in search of the one demon he wanted to see most.
But he was nowhere to be found.
Striker located Millie and looked at her with concern visible on his face, eyes clouded with a barely held back panic. Her expression was sad when their gazes met. She shook her head wordlessly.
It felt like a stone. Sinking into his stomach and pressing his insides, knotting his guts together. Suddenly, all this cheering felt hollow. Mocking even, leaving a very bad taste in his mouth. He… really shouldn’t be here right now.
It would seem his little one needed his surprise sooner rather than later. With that in mind, Striker hopped over the fence and exited the premises, leaving Blitz and everyone else in a state of confusion.