The Mother
Fandom: Helluva Boss
Ship: Robo Fizz/Concord (OC)
Word Count: 2,177
Warnings: This story is generally sexual in nature. It also explores trauma and abuse, including sexual abuse and rape. This chapter includes a character being triggered and violence.
The next morning, Fizz wouldn’t let him out of bed right away. He clung to him and kissed his way down the back of his neck, begging him to stay in bed a little longer. Concord couldn’t be sure why. There was the possibility he didn’t want him to go see his mother at all, but there was also the possibility that he’d had a bad night. If that were the case, Concord didn’t want to discourage the first comfort he sought for that. So, he let Fizz keep him in bed all morning and only escaped after noon.
Fizz still insisted on going with him and Concord had agreed even if he’d done so under a bit of manipulation. But he was almost glad for it. He hated seeing his mother but he loved the feeling of Fizz’s protective hands, grabbing him and holding him every chance he got, trying to convince him to stay home. And he made it very tempting.
In the end, he couldn’t do it. His mother’s disapproving eyes wouldn’t leave him. So, Fizz came with him as he said he would. Concord held his hand as he knocked on the door and Fizz squeezed it softly. He could feel the heavy sound of her boots approaching in the pit of his stomach. The door creaked open slowly to reveal his mother.
She stood around Concord’s height, horns swept straight back over a tangle of long black hair that she kept up in a clip. She wore a torn flannel and ripped jeans, never really letting go of her wrath ring fashion sense. Tired eyes assessed him. Concord fidgeted under her gaze, but it quickly moved to focus on Fizz. She sneered at him before turning back to Concord, scoffing.
“Shit, boy, where’s yer manners? You don’t bring yer sex toys to visit yer ma. Ain’t I raised ya better ’an that?”
She turned and headed inside before he could respond. Fizz started forward, fist raised, but Concord hung off his arm, pulling it back to his side.
“Please, don’t.”
Fizz made his frustration known with silent curses as he relaxed his arms.
“In or out, boy. Just close that door. I ain’t payin’ to cool half of Hell.”
Concord sighed and shut the door behind him as he followed, Fizz at his side. He really hated these visits and he honestly had no idea why he still caved to her guilt trips. Once they were seated in the living room, she lit up a cigarette and exhaled rings of smoke before she turned a lazy stare to Fizz again.
“There a story here or what?”
“Mom, this is Fizz.”
“I know who it’s named after, that don’t explain why ya brought it here. Nice to know you got the money to drop on somethin’ like that while yer ma is wallowin’ in squalor with the pigs.”
Concord cleared his throat, fighting the urge to point out that she did not in fact live in squalor and that he had sent her money for years to make sure of that. Until Fizz’s repairs got in the way, which wasn’t something he needed brought up while Fizz was sitting right there.
“Mom, his name is Fizz and I would appreciate it if you didn’t refer to him as an object.”
“Oh, look who’s formed an ‘unhealthy attachment’ now.” She blew smoke in his face and smirked. “Guess yer a chip off the old block there, huh?”
Concord waved the smoke from his face and tried to ignore the jab. She had never let him forget the argument they had when he left home. She’d throw any phrase he’d dropped back then when she saw the opportunity.
“It’s not an unhealthy attachment. We’re in a legitimate relationship.”
Not that Concord could say what that relationship was, but his mother didn’t need to know that. She stared for a moment before coughing out a laugh around her cigarette.
“Boy, I didn’t think ya could sink any lower. Now yer datin’ yer fuckin’ sex doll? Goes to show ya there ain’t no such thing as rock bottom in Hell.”
Concord bit his lip and clenched his fists at his knees, avoiding eye contact. He felt Fizz’s hands on his shoulders and it steadied him. He could take his mother insulting him, but as he thought about how the same words insulted Fizz, he found a strength he didn’t normally have.
“He’s not my sex doll. He’s sentient and deserves respect.”
She laughed again, flicking her cigarette ashes on the floor carelessly.
“You’ve finally lost it. Told ya, you hang around enough basketcases, yer bound to catch it.”
“Mother, mental illness is not contagious! Please. Let’s not get into that again.”
“ Mother ,” she mocked. “You think talkin like a city slicker makes you better ‘an me, but you’ll always be of my blood, boy. You’ll always be mine.”
Fizz’s grip tightened on his shoulders momentarily before sliding down to wrap around his waist. He pulled Concord close, a taunting grin spreading over his face.
“Sorry, Ma. I’m afraid your little boy is mine now.”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she leaned forward.
“You ownin’ something’s a real cute joke. Tell another clown boy.”
Concord didn’t like the way this was escalating, but he felt frozen. He leaned back into Fizz’s arms, wanting the safety of his embrace though he feared how it would antagonize his mother further.
“Here’s a good one. What’s red and white with two horns and two tongues? Your son with my tongue down his throat.”
Concord stiffened in Fizz’s arms as his long tongue slid over his cheek, the jester staring straight into his mother’s eyes. Oh, no. She put her cigarette out with a firmness that made Concord tense even more, reached down to her boot, and drew a knife, stabbing it into the coffee table. Concord’s breathing escalated as he stared at that knife. He tunnel visioned on it, a red hot phantom pain in his stomach.
“You wanna go, ya nasty bastard?”
Fizz gripped his shoulders again as he rose from his seat, his face taking on a murderous glee.
“That didn’t take long. You’re too easy, Ma.”
She smirked.
“Easy to get goin’ but let’s see ya stop me.”
“Please, don’t!” Concord cried, visibly shaking now. “There’s no reason to get violent!”
Fizz looked down at his outburst, and his mother took the opportunity to launch herself off the coffee table, knife in hand. Fizz grabbed her out of the air and held her just out of stabbing range. He laughed maniacally.
“Thanks for giving me an excuse, Ma!”
He spun her around before chucking her at the wall. Picture frames crashed around her as she hit the floor. Faster than Fizz anticipated, she regained her feet and darted at him. He barely dodged as she thrust the knife at his chest. It hit the couch right next to Concord and Fizz growled. His arms wrapped around the wrath imp and squeezed before slamming her into the chair she’d been sitting in. It tumbled backwards and she rolled until she hit an end table.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” she demanded, spitting blood as she pushed herself up.
“I’m a ‘who’ now?” he asked with a cackle. “Violence really is the only thing you understand.”
She smirked as she got to her feet, grabbing another knife from the toppled table as she did so. Fizz let her come close enough to take another slash at him, but grabbed the wrist of her knife wielding hand. He wound his arm around it as he grabbed the other with his free hand.
“Hope you’re just as good with the other one,” he ground out through bared teeth.
His arm constricted and the sound of cracking and snapping made Concord jerk in his seat. He couldn’t even register his mothers cry of pain. Each break of those tiny but powerful bones sent a pulse through his entire body. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see what was happening anymore. He could hear crashes and screams but it was as if he were underwater. Part of him wanted to sit there and succumb to his panic attack. Let Fizz take care of this in his way. Would the world miss one more wrath imp?
But he couldn’t do it. After all she’d done to him, she still didn’t deserve to die. He stood suddenly. As his vision swam back into focus, he found half the house destroyed. Fizz had his mother pinned against the wall, a knife buried in his side as she struggled. His arm tightened around her and she choked.
It wouldn’t take long to choke to death with those smoker’s lungs, a voice inside him suggested. His eyes turned slowly to the knife still buried in the couch. That knife, so simple in design, but so distinct in his mind. He took it in his hand and pulled it free. He wanted to bury the blade in her heart. He felt the little creature of rage stirring in his own.
He had to fight it. He took slow, weak steps towards Fizz.
“Please, don’t, Fizz.”
Concord saw the coils around her loosen slightly but Fizz kept his feral eyes trained on the thrashing imp.
“Gonna let yer...fuckin’ dildo fight yer battles fer ya, boy?”
Her voice came out raspy and strangled. Even in the midst of being choked to death she had to take a shot at him. Even while he tried to save her. His fingers tightened on the handle of her knife. But he couldn’t find it in himself. His voice came out cold and strange.
“Don’t kill her. But show her what it’s like to almost die in a place she felt safe. Show her how I felt.”
Fizz grinned menacingly.
“Anything for you, baby.”
Concord put a hand on his arm briefly before letting it slide away and walking outside. He didn’t want to see it and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. But damn if he didn’t want it to happen. He sat down on the step and put his face in his hands. He had no idea what this would do to him, but for the moment he could only feel numb. He remained this way, staring into the darkness of his palms, until the door behind him opened and closed.
Fizz sat down on the step next to him, a hand touching his back gently. Concord refused to look at him, face still buried in his hands. But the touch did something to him. He let out a wretched sob as the emotions came cascading back.
“I’m a monster!”
Fizz didn’t bother asking for permission. He scooped Concord up in his arms and held him close. Concord’s fists balled in his shirt as he hid his tears against his chest, teeth clenched so tight his jaw ached. Fizz’s hands were gentle, fingers sliding softly over his arm, but his voice came out stone cold.
“That’s the biggest lie you’ve told.”
Concord looked up in shock, tears still streaming down his face.
“You’re the furthest thing from a monster there is down here. I don’t even know how you got born in Hell. If imps could ascend you’d have just poofed away at birth. You’re not a monster. You’re an angel.”
It took a minute for that to sink in as Concord wiped at his tears.
“You really think of me that way?”
“Come on, Concord. You would have fixed me even if I didn’t sleep with you. You tried so hard not to take advantage of something built to be taken advantage of. And no matter how much evidence life threw in your face, you wanted to believe that monster in there had some kind of good in her. You keep trying to believe there’s good in Hell . But even you have a breaking point. And she’s the monster for pushing you to it.”
Concord felt a strange smile stretching across his face and strained laughter bubbled up from his chest. Laughter and sobs mixed and mangled his voice as he buried his face in Fizz’s chest again. Fizz held him, rubbing his back for a few minutes, waiting for the fit to subside. As the sobs softened into hitches of breath and small whimpers, Fizz stood, still holding him.
“Let’s go home before the ambulance gets here.”
“You called an ambulance?”
“You wanted her to live and suffer, didn’t you?”
Concord lowered his head again. She would suffer like he had suffered. And he hadn’t wished that on anyone in his whole life. Whatever Fizz said, he’d become a monster in his own eyes. He’d let that little creature of rage take over and he’d hurt someone other than its intended target. He knew himself to be capable of uncontrolled violence now.
Wouldn’t his mother be proud if she lived? And, oh, how that thought sent a spike of agony through his soul as Fizz carried him away.