Chapter Text
Blitzø stood outside of the office, looking at the list in his hand. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure how it had become a list: he had told Dr. Smith that he would write down one nice thing someone had said about him, and he ended up writing five. He had gone above and beyond on his therapy homework, like some kinda fucking nerd.
Once he had started, though, he was surprised how many nice things he kept noticing in just one week. It was easier than he had thought, in that it wasn’t impossible. And the biggest surprise was that the first one had come from Loona.
1) Loonie got her furst hedshot on a target and sed “Mi dad tot me that” ❤️❤️❤️
Talk about a proud dad moment. Ever since they had started going to the shooting range, Loona’s aim had gotten better every day. He fucking knew that his baby would be blowing bitches’ heads off, but he hadn’t expected her to give him credit for it. It was like he was teaching her the family trade, and he had had the biggest, stupidest smile on his face all day.
2) Stolas sed Im the strongist persun hes evr met
He hadn't really understood why. All he had done was beat up some asshole that had said Stolas’s neck would have looked better with an axe through it. Stolas had already been having a rough day - he had seen an avian Sinner in a beanie and had called out for Octavia. For the rest of the day, his beak had done that little trembly thing it did when he was trying to keep it together.
So when that guy had yelled that at Stolas, the tears he had been holding in all day burst out of him like a dam breaking. The guy had just started laughing at Stolas then, until he had been distracted by Blitzø's fist launching three teeth out of his head. After the asshole started crying and Stolas had almost stopped, Blitzø stole the asshole's wallet and took Stolas out for ice cream.
Halfway through his mice cream sundae (with extra whipped cream and rat tails instead of sprinkles), Stolas had looked up at Blitzø and just stared at him like he was watching a meteor shower. Blitzø had assumed he had hot fudge on his face or something, but Stolas had called him “the strongest person I ever met”. Which was weird, because the shit-talking asshole had barely put up a fight. But the doc said that he just had to notice the nice shit, not understand it. And if his stomach had done a little flip when Stolas had smiled at him like that, that was his fucking business.
3) Moxx sed mi plan for a hit “acshully made alot uv sens”.
The “actually” was kinda backhanded still, but given that it was Moxxie, Blitzø had decided to count it anyway. Moxxie usually did nothing but find fault in Blitzø's plans. And sure, Blitzø was far enough along in his self-awareness exercises to realize that Moxxie was almost never wrong in his criticisms, but that didn't stop it from being annoying as shit. Trying to keep their business afloat, let alone profitable, was like trying to draw blood from… something that was hard to draw blood from. (Blitzø's inexperience with metaphors and his extensive experience with drawing blood from things meant that he couldn't think of something that was hard to draw blood from.)
But it seemed like Moxxie had taken Blitzø's occasional compliments and steep decrease in insults to heart. Especially since they had both bonded over that shitty driver, the two of them seemed to be getting along a lot better. Their banter could even be called “playful” now, with almost no bullying present. He could tell that Moxxie appreciated that, and Millie appreciated it even more to see “her boys” getting along.
Speaking of Millie…
4) Mills cald me a killing masheen on a mishun
And that was about the best compliment he could get from her. He had been doing particularly well thinning a crowd of mobsters on a mission, and Millie's compliment had pumped him up enough to officially hit 60 killed targets. It wasn't even halfway through the year, and he was more than halfway to his “100 killed targets” goal.
Millie, of course, had noticed that too, and had taken him out to a bar to celebrate. She really was such an incredible friend. He still didn't feel like he deserved that, but he was learning to be grateful for it anyway.
It helped when he noticed how much his family actually seemed to like being around him. Maybe it meant that they liked him too. Which led into the last point:
5) Evrywun at werk smiled an sed nise shit wen I sed I wuz going to therupee today
A year ago, he would have refused to talk to anybody about the fact that he was going to therapy. But a lot had happened in that year, and he didn't feel like he needed it to keep so tight-lipped around the people he cared most about. He still didn't talk about it much, but just before he had left work today, he had half-jokingly yelled out, “Taking off now, gotta go get my head shrunk.”
He had been trying to make a joke, but everyone had just smiled and said some version of “Good luck” or “Hope it goes well” or “Knock ‘em dead,” or whatever. It wasn't just that they treated it like it was normal. It's that they actually seemed happy that he was going.
He sighed slightly. A list of five nice things didn't fix everything. He was still having nightmares, and he still couldn't think about the Trial for too long without feeling like he was there again. But it did make him feel like, just maybe, he didn't ruin everything for everyone.
Maybe Hell really was better with him in it, even if just a little.
It was a small step, but it was a step forward. Even though he still had a million fucking steps to go, it was nice knowing that he wasn't doing this alone.
And with that, he punched in the code and walked into the office.
One step at a time.