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Blowing the head off a demon had some cathartic feeling to it. Originally Amethyst popped in the game because she wanted something violent, something she could push all her frustration into and imagine each and every enemy as someone she wanted to hit, scream at, or just do something negative toward.

But the more she played, and the more she died, her original frustrations were replaced with new moments of controller shaking rage at the insufferable AI. It probably wasn't the best game for her to pick up without any experience. Even at the lowest difficulty, she found herself dying more often then she'd like. Some enemies were more capable of dealing with her shotgun, the weapon wheel was slow, her fingers cramped. "Fuck!" the vole slumped into the green leather couch and stared at the death screen. She started this, annoyed with the world, now she was upset with the damn game.

Maybe gaming wasn't meant to be her hobby? She sighed, mentally crossing it off the list, or at least shooters. Since moving in with Helga and taking her academics with a little more realism, the punky vole tried to discover who she was. Which, in her mind, meant finding a hobby to define herself. The dyed headfur shaved into a sidecut was one aspect, but she merely looked the part of a punk. The bands she followed were probably too mainstream to be considered part of the lifestyle, not that she knew anyone to ask. She tried knitting, but found it tedious. Drawing devolved into stick figures, writing became a chore after a page and watching movie after movie had her ass falling asleep.

The front door opened and closed in the background. Amethyst didn't move, keeping dead eyes on the screen. "Was class canceled today?" Helga asked. She looked up to her older lover, decked out in a weathered leather jacket, jeans, and boots she'd normally be happy to kiss. Amethyst shook her head, "I didn't feel like going."

"That doesn't sound like a smart thing to do." The couch shifted as the pig sat down. She reached for Amethyst, but the vole curled up more. Helga shook her head, "If you're gonna stay mad, at least don't ruin my bed for the evening."

"I didn't make you sleep on the couch last night."

"No," Helga nodded, "But your eyes sure did demand it. Rebecca told me you stared at the wall all night."

Helga had every right to sleep in the bed. This was her house after all. But she didn't, not after the bombshell she dropped previously, and in a way, Amethyst respected that about her. For a woman that avoided romantic relationships or settling down before they met, she knew how to give space. "Look...I wasn't sure how to explain the call." Helga scratched her head, sighing heavily in frustration, "I probably should have just ended play right after it but-"

"Oh my god," Amethyst groaned and stared into the ceiling, "It's not about how you dropped it on me. It's about the thing itself." The vole got up and started pacing back and forth to stretch her legs, "Like, I haven't had a dad for over twenty years, and the person who tells me he's in town is the lady whose cunt I eat on, like, a daily basis? And she finds out because of her old ex? Meanwhile, my mom still hasn't called me about it." She threw her hands up, "If this were a fucking movie I'd be laughing my ass off. But instead, I'm just all the more pissed."

Returning to the couch, Amethyst laid down into the pig woman's lap. "I just...I don't know how to deal with this." Helga nodded, pushing the vole's headfur out of her eyes and scratching her skull. "Yeah, kiddo. I wish I had a good answer for ya. But..." She held her tongue, reevaluating what to say next. With a sigh, she shook her head, "I don't got a good one. I just hope you make the right choice."

"What even is the right choice?"

Helga opened her mouth, but her stomach answered. Nervously chuckling, she scratched her head and looked at the clock. "Can we discuss this over food? I'm pretty starving."

"Didn't you pack lunch for work?" Amethyst's girlfriend shrugged, "With what happened last night, I kind of forgot. And no way I'm buying McDonalds to hold me over. I don't want my stomach to have a side of flab."

***

One lunch and a kiss goodbye later, Amethyst still didn't know what to do. Actually, she did, but she didn't want to admit it. Deep down the vole believed that people deserve second chances. It's why she gave her old roommate help despite the badger dismissively calling Helga a dyke.

But this felt...different. Wrong. The mistakes were made before she was born, and they hadn't bothered to rectify themselves during her childhood. A time when she should have had a father or hell, a close family member to pick her up from practice or say 'I'm proud of you' rather than be super busy all the time. "No. Stop it," she said to herself, loosening her grip on the steering wheel. "It's not worth getting angrier about. He only abandoned you for over twenty years, and your mother didn't even bother mentioning he existed. Course you never asked so who's fault is...damn it!" She loosened her grip again and sighed.

The Leather Den always looked imposing at a glance. A black paint cube shaped store lodged between a restaurant and knife sharpener, with a deep crimson red filling out the letters. Amethyst figured it always looked good during Halloween, but no kids should ever trick or treat there.

Rebecca headed out from the front the minute she parked, walking with a pep in her step that only a good day of work could bring. How the socially sheltered pitbull could have any kind of positive day with the playfully barbed tongue ocelot drag queen she worked under was anyone's guess, but Amy tried not to think about it. Otherwise, she'd start using some words derogatorily and she was better than that.

"Fun day at work?" Rebecca nodded, "Oh fantastic, Mis...Amy. There was a guy who came in wanting to check out panties for crossdressing. He was so nervous but Franny helped him out and..." the pitbull barely suppressed her squeal, "His smile was so adorable. It was like looking in a mirror when I first got tied up."

"You were pretty red," Amethyst said, turning her car back on and pulling out, "You might as well have melted through the restraints." Rebecca went on about her day as they drove, having a surprising amount of good things to say for someone working retail at a sex shop. While the vole's own sheltered lifestyle had left her unprepared for the working world as well, her first experience working as a barista did make her feel jealous of the pitbull's after work energy.

"Something wrong?" Rebecca asked. Amethyst didn't realize she was frowning. "No, not really," She deflected, "Just...just a lot on my mind."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" She didn't, but Amethyst sighed and figured she might as well. "You heard me and Helga's conversation last night?" Seeing a nod, she continued, "I'm still thinking about it. I'm not angry at her, but my own apparent parents for apparently keeping things in the dark. Like, over twenty years he had a chance, but he never looked? And my mother never contacted him, or even bothered to tell me? What was she gonna wait until I was thirty or something?"

They sat silently in the car. Rebecca watched cars drive by, her face puzzled in the reflection. At the red light, Amethyst rested her head on the steering wheel. She knew it was better just to forget about it. "So...I'm not the best to give advice about fathers. We both know how shitty mine was." The pitbull looked over to the vole, face soft and concerned, "But when it comes to parents that never saw their kids, I have some experience. Like...my mom never got to meet me. Now if I found out she was alive today and wanted to, I'd be pissed. Like, going back to throwing punches pissed. But I'd feel owed an explanation, and in the end I would like to at least see her."

Rebecca hugged herself tight, as if it could close her emotional wound. If she weren't driving, Amethyst would have hugged her back, but she instead consoled her with a hand on the dog's shoulder. "Thanks..." She said. The canine smiled back, "Anytime."

Amethyst had made up her mind. She needed answers, and only two people had them. One of which she had the number of. With a heavy breath, Amethyst looked through her phone and found her mother. It was time for the truth.