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maladyinpink · 5 months ago

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Morning Sickness -

Hell/uva Boss -

Alrighty y'all, thank you to everyone in the community that's responded and shared with such sweet and welcoming feedback. 🥺💕

Excited to share with you, the sister fic to TIATO (The Imp and The Owl), and the first part of the sick!Millie and caretaker!Moxxie fic, written for @sweetlysniffly for this post. Thank you for the inspo!

Morning Sickness: Takes place directly after Sins/Mas and just before TIATO. At the holiday party, Mill/ie does her best to stay strong and push through after seeing that life-changing test. Under the pressure and having been out in the freezing temperatures, she catches a nasty cold. Moxx/ie, knowing something is wrong, handles the situation carefully and dotes on his wife.

CW: Snz, Illness, Emotional pain/comfort, themes of deep anxiety, brief mentions of vomit (the character is pregnant), mentions of child maltreatment. I swear it gets fluffy guys, BUT these characters canonically are going through the ringer. Everyone's walls are coming down...Oh...And MORE puns 😈💗 enjoy!

"OH, look at that, you just landed on my tower...again! Pay up, bitches!"

The group had been playing Mammonopoly for the past few hours and a collective but good-natured groan released around the table as Blitzø's piece landed on Loona's space for…the umpteenth time. She drunkenly laughed and raked in the pastel-colored bills that everyone shoved forward and took another shot.

"Might I say, it doesn't seem fair that all of the players have to pay when only one person lands on a property?" Stolas, sitting up on the couch, had leaned to whisper over Blitzø's shoulder. After the pair had made their way back inside from the balcony, he'd politely refused the offer of playing, but quietly sat and watched…and was utterly confused by the…so-called rules.

"Yeah, you're right! Jesus! Wonder what fucker marketed this shit?" Blitzø whispered back sarcastically and tapped the game box.

"Ah, point taken." Stolas grimaced.

"Your turn, Mils!"

"Hm?"

Millie seemed to be lost when Blitzø tossed the dice in her line of sight on the coffee table. She leaned forward to pick them up, and knew she'd made an instant mistake. Her stomach lurched and chills ran up her shoulders. Immediately reminded of IMP's mission to Antarctica, she wondered how the room had managed to get so cold? Millie gulped and forced what she hoped was a determined smirk. She took the dice, about to roll, but the room starting to kaleidoscope around her easily changed her mind.

"Here, Mox, roll for me…I think I'm gonna sit the rest of this one out." Millie said, her voice sounding tight and rushed as she handed the dice to her husband.

"Are you sure? Honey, you love Mammonopoly!"

Moxxie looked at her, bewildered. Millie pasted on a paper-thin smile and nodded, handing over her player token and dropping the dice on the board.

"Not as much as you, baby!" Millie blurted out, in a rush to leave, "Just gotta run to the lil' imp's room, real quick, 'scuse me!"

The room tilted as she made her way to the bathroom, her hand pressed against her stomach. The party carried on outside, but once inside, she leaned over the sink, feeling the bile rise up her aching throat. Millie's eyes clenched as she tossed her Sinsmas cookies. This was the third time today.

Several hours ago, when the party had begun, after a second upchucking and seeing that terrifying plus, she'd hoped a call to her sister would help her figure out what to do next. Sallie Mae, though she sounded scared as well, had responded with unconditional support, told her to breathe and asked if she was absolutely sure.

"Sure as fuckin' peanut butter an' pickled onions on toast, Sal." She'd laughed bitterly through her tears, not wanting to look at the positive test that had dropped on the floor.

That'd been what their own mother had craved when she was around 5 weeks pregnant with their younger brothers. And what she'd been eating in front of Moxxie's moderately disturbed mug just the other morning. Back at the ranch, the expecting hell-hogs tended to get moody around 5-7 weeks when breeding a litter. And emotions had been a bit volatile recently, to say the least. Both girls cried, said teary I love you's and agreed she was at least a month along, before the call ended.

Now with more answers and support, she still felt so lost, drowning in uncertainty. And...somehow freezing in a fucking fur-lined sweater dress. She took a deep breath and blinked at the fearful imp she couldn't recognize in the mirror. And shivering, nose starting to run, felt an itch stem in the bridge of her nose.

"Hihnk'XHT…Hee'XHT'ieww!…shit." Millie barely stifled the sneezes toward the floor and swore under her breath. Great, another setback to add on to their steaming shit-pile of worries.

But, she could push past this! It was just a little sniffle. The team couldn't afford any more snafus. So she tried to compose herself and stay calm, wiping her nose and mouth with a kleenex and running her claws through her hair. A few sneezes were the least of her worries. How was she going to handle this recent development?

Why now? The thought pummeled and clanged through Millie's mind like a sledgehammer. She looked again at the mirror and put a hand to her middle. She'd known something was off for a little while, but of course, had kept it to herself and pushed through as always. You couldn't miss work just because of a little tummy ache. So she'd put her mind on her work and chalked up the icky feeling to the constant shitshow of the past month. Everyone was going through a lot, not just her. She couldn't be selfish. She had to be there for her team. She HAD to be strong.

After all, Blitzø had narrowly escaped an execution ruled by Satan himself, thanks to the tremendous sacrifice of a prince of the Ars Goetia. The hearing had aired on screens spanning across all 7 rings and gained the members of IMP a massive influx of recognition and respect. And while a huge increase in clientele and training the new interns were positives, it was still a lot to handle all at once. So many changes had happened in just the span of a month and during the holiday season.

Just that afternoon, they'd decapitated a 35ft ice monster, stood by in the cold as Stolas cried on his knees over losing connection to his daughter. And, now there was this. There was always the risk, but she and Moxxie had always been careful. Why now, did life have such shitty timing? She took a shaky breath…No. They could enjoy this night. She could be strong-

A sudden knock at the door had rattled her out of her thoughts, Millie jerked, knocking her head slightly on the edge of the sink. She winced but steadied herself and called out, "Sorry, I'm alright! Just a sec!"

"Moxxie, I'm fi-"

She opened the door and stepped outside to see, not her husband, but an awkward looking Stolas, who was…twiddling his thumbs as he waited.

"Oh- M-my goodness, I am SO sorry, Big Guy!" Millie nervously smiled, her drawl sweet as punch.

"No No! I apologize, I just had to use the-..." Then he looked up with concern, and seemed to see right through Millie's facade. "Sorry, are you quite alright? Forgive me, but you look…quite flushed."

"Oh, you're too sweet, Stolas, I'm fine," Millie waved him off with a lie, a little too quickly, "Just a lil buzzed, that's all…" Another lie, she hadn't had a drop to drink all night. She had to get the attention off of her somehow, then she realized, "Uh…How are you holdin' up?"

Millie felt awful the moment the question had crawled out of her teeth. Her question wasn't completely insincere, she was truly sympathetic. She knew he shouldn't have to be reliving the day more than he already was, but the fighter couldn't think straight and she'd panicked. Stolas couldn't respond at all, his gaze lingering on the imp in front of him a second longer than usual. Millie felt four red eyes piercing through her, like he could see her thoughts clear as day. But then he blinked, and it was gone. He looked at the floor and seemed to freeze there, spiraling.

Millie nodded, "S'alright, m'sorry...I know you're goin' through some real tough shit...don't have to tell me nothin', alright?" It was a little awkward, but she'd at least tried to give him some warm reassurance.

The owl looked past her and offered a curt nod. He headed into the bathroom and closed the door. Millie let out a rigid exhale she hadn't known she'd been holding in and walked back to the living room. The game had seemed to unofficially run its course and had migrated into fun inebriated conversation. All was well, but as she sat down, she couldn't stop the chills. But…no one seemed to suspect a thing. Right?

"...Millie, you're shivering." Moxxie's voice, quiet as it may have been, almost made her jump. She should have known he'd notice and start to prod at the first sign. Millie huffed. She was fine! Clearly, this was ridiculous.

"Oh, Sweetie, quit your worryin'...m'fine. If anythin', it's a little cold in here."

"Well…I can fix that! Get over here, good lookin'!" Moxxie waggled his eyebrows, nuzzling against his wife's shoulder and pulling her in to snuggle.

"Moxxie!" Millie's sweet little giggles tinkled out like music as Moxxie embraced her…but didn't last long. She shuddered under his touch and nuzzled back, so desperate for warmth, her little buck teeth chattered. And Moxxie, ever the attentive husband, couldn't help but study her with quiet concern. Millie hoped a saccharine smile would get her through, teeth like marshmallows, hiding the forest fire in her head.

"S-somethin' wrong, Sweetie?"

"Well- Yeah...You just feel a little warm?…And you threw up earlier?…And don't take this the wrong way but you look a little…peaky." Moxxie seemed to be quickly putting the pieces together and she had to stop it.

She scoffed, feigning bravado, "Tch, Peaky? Moxx, there's nothin' to worry about, I told ya to quit worryin', I don't-"

"Is your stomach still queasy? Oh crumbs, was it the cookies? Maybe I took 'em out too early! You know salmonella is rarely fatal, but if you were already susceptible- "

"Moxxie!...I am fine! Jus' stop fuckin' ramblin', all this noise, you're makin' m'head hurt." Okay, that came out way harsher than she'd meant it to, and it showed as Moxxie had pulled away, looking confused and a little wounded.

"Sorry Moxx, I-…Shit…did it again, didn't I?…uh oh! - Hnk'TCHi!"

Moxxie's eyebrows flew up and he reached out a gentle hand toward Millie, growing very worried, "Bless you, honey-"

She pulled away and let out a huge sneeze into her wrist over her other shoulder.

"AtSH'SHEW!"

"Bless you…"

Millie couldn't look Moxxie in the eye, she was utterly drained. He leaned over, holding her flushed face in his hand to feel his poor wife's forehead and then her cheeks.. He frowned, a furrow forming between his brows as he took her hand, not needing another sign to know it was time to leave.

"Yep…I thought so…" He kissed her forehead and looked her in the eye, "We're going home, Millie." Millie looked up at him, apologetic. So much for being strong.

"Hey Sir?...We're gonna call it a night." Moxxie called over to get Blitzø's attention out of the loud drunken conversation, his hand firmly around Millie's waist, helping her stand up.

"Already?!" Loona slurred, her eyes waving wildly around the room, holding up a game box for 'Settlers of Satan' in one paw, and somehow, another bottle in the other, "But we were just about to start the next game...with. more. DRINKS!"

Moxxie gave Millie a pointed look, and she finally spoke up, "Nah, we really best be goin'."

"That'sss…bullshit! Dad! Back me up! Y-you know what I think, Dad? These guys…are too fuckin' chickenshit tooo-"

Loona's words were cut off as she sprinted out of the room to the balcony, and the entire party cringed at the sound of her retching and a car alarm going off from the street.

"...Oh my fucking god...I'll hold her hair back, c'mon Russ." Loona's tipsy friend Gigi sighed and headed out to the balcony, pulling along the equally drunk fluff-ball behind her.

"I'm sorry, B, really," Millie called out as Moxxie helped her shrug into her coat, she put on another tight smile as they headed out the front door, "We would'a stuck around, it's just been a really long day."

Blitzø waved her off, "Nah, you're fine, Loona an' her friends're shitfaced...I'm tired as a fat bitch...an' Stolas is…" He trailed off, looking back into the apartment at the bathroom door. "...I'm sure we all wanna crash after this absolute clusterfuck of a day. You kids head home and get some rest, I'll see ya after the New Year.

Millie smiled, a real smile this time, "Merry Sinsmas, Blitzø."

"Merry Sinsmas!…Now! If you'll excuse me, I'm just gonna go-"

They all winced at the sound of Loona vomiting again. "...Handle that."

••••••••••••••••••••

The cab ride home was silent and Millie leaned her head against the cool window, passing building after building decorated with tinsel and rainbow lights. Her eyes welled up with tears and the lights streaked. Moxxie sat beside her and looked over every few moments with an anxious gaze as she sniffled and rubbed her nose on her sweater sleeve.

Finally, once the door to their apartment closed behind them, Millie couldn't hold it in any longer. The tears spilled down her cheeks as she turned to face Moxxie. "M'sorry," she choked out, her voice barely audible.

Moxxie's eyes were full of pure compassion. He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, "…Millie, if you weren't feeling well, you don't have to hide things from me…Why didn't you tell me?"

"I know, Moxx, m'sorry...I just-...I wanted us to have this night." She snorted back what must've been running out of her nose and she knew it was an ugly sound, but she didn't have any energy to care. Her body now feeling like it was roasting on a spit, she sobbed out, "Shit, we've just been dealin' with so much an-"

"I know…Too much. And it's finally getting to you...It's okay...It's okay." Moxxie did his best to calm her cries, holding her and stroking the back of her head.

Moxxie led her into their bedroom. He helped her into bed, her legs feeling like jelly beneath her. He climbed in next to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her in closer to his side.

But she pulled away gently. "Moxxie?...I think…I might need a lil' space tonight."

"...Honey?"

Her voice quivered, "It's just... I-I don't want'cha gettin' sick. Whatever I'm gettin'...it's nasty. I don' wanna spread it."

Moxxie was silent for a moment, then nodded solemnly, but still wore a smile. He knew something was wrong, but put his trust in her. He pulled back the covers and tucked her in, making sure she'd be warm enough.

He pecked a chaste kiss to her cheek. "Millie I-...I understand…If you need anything, just tell me...I love you…Merry Sinsmas."

"Merry Sinsmas…I love you too...M- Moxxie?...I'm-"

The room was already empty. He had left as quietly as he could, giving her the space she had asked for. Millie felt a lump form in her throat. She rolled onto her side, her hand brushing and clawing at the spot on the pillow where his head had been. Fuck, she felt like a monster. She'd lied. She'd snapped. And now, she had sent her husband to sleep on the couch? On what was supposed to be a happy night. She growled at the overboil of thoughts in her troubled mind and channeled it into a punch into the headboard. Her eyes filled with tears that spilled over onto Moxxie's pillowcase. The fabric grew damp under her cheek as she wept, her sobs muffled by the pillow.

Could this monster be a mother? She was a Wrathian thug, a brawler. And sure, Blitzø had taught her she could be more than that. But could she do this?...Be this? She'd never imagined this for herself...for them. She and her husband committed murder for a living. It was a job she enjoyed and she'd potentially have to throw it all away. What kind of childhood would the spawn of two hired assassins have?

The thought was laughable…really. So absurd, she couldn't help but let out a little watery snicker. It grew into a chuckle, and before she knew it, she was laughing into the pillow. It was a delirious laugh fueled by a mix of anxiety, probably hormones and the piping hot fever. It all was just too much, she couldn't stop the giggles.

But the laughter eventually devolved into a coughing fit, her chest burning and her eyes watering. She gripped the pillow tightly, trying to muffle the sound, not wanting to wake her poor husband that she'd sent to the couch. He was probably worried sick about her, and she didn't need to add to it. Finally, the coughs subsided, leaving her gasping for breath. And the room had grown quiet again.

Exhaustion had pulled down her eyelids, and she let herself into sleep. Dreams descended quickly, a whirlwind of chaotic images and confusing sounds. A tiny tail, two little stubby black and white horns and… a little scarlet claw reached up for her own. But it was gone before she could grasp it, replaced by an audible chop and the cold steel of an axe.

••••••••••••••••••••

Millie twisted awake out of her feverish nightmare, almost giving her neck whiplash as she'd been curlicued in a ball under the blankets. As she pushed herself up against the pillows, she felt like she was hauling a bag of wet sand, as she was completely stuffed up. Her nose like a drippy clogged drain, she snorted back what felt like a wall of mucus in her sinuses. A few seconds later, a little fit of harsh congested sneezes barreled out.

"…Heeh…Hee'ESH'HEW!…HAtSH'CHEW"

"...Bless you." A voice gently called from the doorway.

"ES'HEW!...yitSCHiEW!"

Once Millie could finally blink the sleepy rime out of her eyes and scrub at her nose, she got a good look at her husband, who was carrying a tray, full of sick day essentials from their medicine cabinet.

"…G'mbordin'." she rasped out a greeting more akin to a frog.

"Good Morning…" Moxxie set the tray down, and felt under her bangs with the back of his hand, "You…are very hot, Sweetie."

"You...are such a flirt…hhh…ESh'HiEww!"

Moxxie chuckled and kissed the side of her temple, "Not like that..."

Millie took one look at the tray, complete with Tissues, Baphometophen, Belli-Buttons Antacids, Deep-Throat brand cough drops, decongestant, expectorant and was a little overwhelmed. She mentally cursed her overly attentive husband. She wasn't sure how medications would affect her body in this state, with this...thing inside her.

She deliriously shook her head at the tray, "Uh-uh- No…I- I don't ndeed all that shit…d'ain't that serious."

"But, Millie-"

"It's jus' a cold..I said no."

Moxxie's face fell at the defensiveness in her tone, but he patiently nodded, understanding. "Okay...Uh, can you at least lemme get you something to eat?...Maybe some tea?"

Millie managed a nod, and looked away, feeling guilty for snapping at him...again, "Tea'd be ndice...Thagk you, baby."

Moxxie nodded with a smile, leaving the tissues, and taking the tray with him. She heard him in the kitchen, the clinking of pots and pans and the hiss of the kettle. She grabbed a tissue and grumpily snorted and rubbed at her nose, feeling like a catapult as she leaned back and had to pitch a heavy sneeze.

"Ack'SHiEW!"

"Bless you, Sweetie!" She heard from the next room.

Sweet Lucifer, she loved that man. He was too good to her. He'd probably make a wonderful father. They'd even talked about it before, but it'd been a hypothetical for the future. Far in the future. Sure, she'd helped her mother around the house with the younger siblings since infancy. Sure, they'd been married almost 2 years. Sure, having a kid at 27 was okay…when you were planning for it. But this had come out of nowhere, it wasn't the same as having your own. She was so scared of the unknown, the changes her body would go through, how this would impact their life, their job, their relationship. That's …if she was even keeping this.

Within another hour of her stewing in her thoughts, the door squeaked open, and Moxxie entered, carrying in the tray again, this time, with a steaming mug and a bowl.

"Here, Sweetie."

"Whassat?" She drowsily pointed to the bowl, once Moxxie set the tray down.

"It's soup!...Well, it's my...Mom's soup."

His Mom? Millie felt her heart swelling, "D'Aww, Honey…You didn't hafta go'n…do that."

Moxxie looked down at the steaming bowl with a sad smile, "It's called Pastina, but this one is special, it's what she used to give me when I was sick, down in Notamafia...I know I don't talk about her often...I never told you that story, huh?"

Millie shook her head with wide yellow orbs and took the warm mug of tea from the tray and sipped. Moxxie never tended to say much about his childhood and she had respected that. After the experience of meeting his father, she understood why it'd never come up in conversation. He hesitated and his expression became a bit sullen as if he were numb.

"It was raining...real hard one night," he began, his yellow eyes froze over with the memory, "...Dad sometimes took me out with him to his office…He'd been teaching me to shoot, how to aim and hold steady?...He'd call it-…'bonding', 'learning the family business'...But he just wanted another pawn......That night, he put a beretta in my hand, cocked and loaded, and told me to shoot at the dartboard… It took a while, but I'd practiced and I eventually…hit a bullseye…I thought he'd be proud...Of course, it didn't take long to find out that wasn't what he really cared about…He just wanted me to shoot."

Moxxie's memories faded to childhood in the greed ring, 6 years old, his horns still barely growing in. Holding the gun and hopefully looking up at Crimson for his approval after trying for hours. Millie knew that the story was about to take a turn for the worse and her eyes started to well up.

"...Dad took me outside, reloaded the barrel and told me… to try to hit another target...and we wouldn't go back inside until I hit it...until it hit them…" Millie's heart shattered for her husband, for the abuse he'd had to suffer.

"...We sat there for hours… soaking and so fucking cold, and all I could do was stare...I couldn't do it, Millie."

She croaked, rubbing away hot tears, "Course not baby, not with your heart…That cocksuckin' psycho…No young'un should be forced into that…used an' made to feel they don't matter...Baby- I am so sorry."

At that, Moxxie smiled back at Millie, as if he was thanking her, and a fond bittersweet look came over him at the flashback of his mother rushing over and pulling the gun out of his hand, dropping it in Crimson's lap. Carrying her son inside out of the rain, she'd given him a bath and tucked him into bed. He shook out of the memory and a little fanged grin started to form.

"Uh-...Anyway...Mom found me…took care of me…It's a miracle that Dad and I didn't catch pneumonia out there…but we both got pretty close...It was the weakest I'd ever seen him! And that piece of shit...begged my Mom, like he was on his fucking deathbed…to make 'Pastina...like my Mudduh used to make'." He said, imitating a sorry sounding Crimson, complete with thick accent.

Then his smile grew wider…and he snorted. He chuckled and shrugged, suddenly surprising Millie who was still in tears.

"It's funny, cause it's usually such a gentle dish...Mom, added her love though. A little bit of cayenne, a pinch of chili flakes...Wrathian spices! 'To keep you warm, Mijo'..." Then, he shook his head, unable to contain himself, "Let's just say, she put a little extra in Dad's, I'll never forget..."

Through her tears, Millie began to chuckle too, as her husband's laughter grew louder and contagious.

"...He crawls out of the bathroom, on his hands and knees, whining 'OHH, my coolie!...Mammina!...Di puttana...Fra Diovolo Pastina!'..." Moxxie took great pleasure in mocking his father in a rare moment of weakness, writhing like a worm. That slimeball had deserved every second of suffering.

Millie wiped the tears away from her eyes and let out a congested little giggle. Moxxie immediately took notice and beamed back. Laughter was the best medicine.

"Aha!...Lit a fire under his ass...Smart woman!-..."

"...You remind me of her, you know?..."

...What?

"Beautiful, intelligent, inventive and funny…and a fighter, so strong even on the hardest days and so much love to give."

Moxxie's speech hung in the air. The tears immediately returned in full force and rolled down Millie's cheeks, in utter shock and silence, until a rough cough pounded its way out of her chest. She took a bite of the soup.

"S'real good, Moxx...Thank you."

Millie continued to eat little bites of the little star pasta, the burn of the liquid running down her throat, clearing her sinuses, but doing little to soothe the emotions brewing within her. She felt his pain, his fear, his love. Real love. She'd never realized it before, but it was possible that was why family was so important to him. What kind of childhood would the spawn of two hired assassins have? If they decided to go through with this, together. A loving one. And if not, she knew, he'd support her.

"Moxxie?..." she started, setting the mug down and turning to face him, her voice shaky.

"What's up, Sweetie?"

Millie's voice cracked, the words she wanted to say lodging themselves in her throat. If he could start opening up more to her, why couldn't she do the same?

"M-Moxxie...I'm so sorry-...An' I just…I wanna tell you…I'm-...

…Y'ESH'HEW!"

Goddamnit. Here came the effects of the spices. Moxxie picked up the box of tissues and held it up with a smile. Millie gratefully took a few tissues, rubbed her watering eyes and released a thick blow.

Okay. She needed to tell him, soon. That was being strong. But for now, she'd focus on letting her walls down a little, letting her sweet husband love and take care of her. She was exausted and needed to overcome this first. When she wasn't feverish, of sound mind and able to pronounce her m's and n's…then she'd tell him.

"...I love you…so much." Moxxie looked at her, his smile wide and full of unconditional love.

"I love you too...and I'm sorry you don't feel well...And, just in case, I think you're going to need these…for the next hour or so."

He edged the tissue box closer to her on the bed, moved the tray and wiggled his way under the blanket. Millie honked another stuffy blow and Moxxie wrinkled his nose and snickered, cuddling into her side. And to his happy relief, she nuzzled back. There was his Millie!

"Wanna watch something?" The sick imp whined as Moxxie got up to open their DVD cabinet across from the bed, but had an answer right away.

"Cleaverhand 6?...It's m'favorite…an' I'm siiick baby." Millie pleaded, eyes swelling to an adorable size, complete with a big pout for good measure.

Moxxie rolled his eyes, "Millie...You just watched that last week...don'tcha think that's a bit much for a sick day?

"So what?...Uh-Ultimate Cleavage, is-…yITch'HIEW!...-b-better than Cleaverhand 2: Electric Boobaloo and only slightly worse than…than!- ACK'ESh'ieew!...Cleaverhand 7: Final Cutlet…Eck'Etss'Hew!"

"Bless you...You're sure?" Moxxie flatly challenged her, they had just had a little tiff about this, just last week. It was a useless argument, as he was too much of a sucker for the big round pleading eyes across from him.

"Hell yes!…C'mon baby," she begged again from behind a tissue, "…We ransacked that abandoned Cockbuster for a reason."

"Well, we also found that limited 1926 edition of Faust? Remember?...Doesn't that sound relaxing?"

"..."

Moxxie sighed, "Cleaverhand 6 it is..."

••••••••••••••••••●●

Millie had begrudgingly spent the next few days in bed, and while she was gradually improving each day, a maddening cabin fever had been setting in. With a little persuasion she'd managed to take some medication to lower the fever and an antacid to settle her stomach. It was disheartening that she'd resisted and even tried to push through, as it was hitting her pretty hard. Moxxie wouldn't say it came as a complete surprise though.

While he was a fan of modern medicine, Moxxie knew his wife would rather handle things the 'Ol' Fashioned Way', 'let nature run its course'. The last time he'd gotten the flu, she'd bundled him like a burrito, she'd made him stew, whispered sweet nothings into his ears and...put potatoes in his socks? It had 'worked for her great Uncle Bocephus', so why not try it?

So she'd been recovering, but she'd also been rather high strung lately, and the isolation and boredom didn't help. There was also…something else going on. Moxxie could feel it, every time he looked at her. Something plaguing her mind. But he couldn't force her, and he trusted that she'd open up in her own time. He longed to know what was going on, or at least ease her troubles, or make her smile.

He'd been grateful the Sinners had been celebrating their New Year's Eve. The passing of another 365 days on Earth. The hellborn didn't exactly celebrate years spent in The Rings the same way, as the concept and passage of time was a bit more complicated in Hell. Nevertheless, it'd been a wonderful distraction from all the misery.

A thrilling display of fireworks across the city, had them both cuddled on the floor in a blanket near the front window to watch. Moxxie had made them both Cocoa, and they'd shared a kiss, wishing all the sinners well. It was beautiful, but seeing his Angel of Death smile, after being stuck in bed all week, put the fireworks to shame.

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