XIV: Rey
Apologize
We meet the woman with the Pac Man motorcycle at 3:40 in the morning, and she's dressed in a police uniform – exactly like the one Dr. Strauss used to wear, the 'Arizona State' star on her sleeve and everything. I squeak and freeze up, but Leo tugs on my arm and I stumble forward, scowling. Meg and Antoine are standing next to her, scowling with a hatred that I don't quite understand, seeing as neither of them have ever had any run ins with the police, so far as I know. I mean, Antoine usually loves them. They're the people who put us in Abattoir Boarding School, actually. He adores policemen.
"Found these midgets wandering the streets," she says, offering them up. "Figured they were some of yours."
Antoine brightens and waves when he sees me, but Meg just continues to sulk; I think nothing of it – self-absorbedness is a bad flaw to have. "Hey, guys," Leo greets cheerfully, raising a hand in greeting before turning back to the policewoman. "Thanks for your help, Nemesis. Anything go wrong?"
"The boy tried to attack me," she snorts. "Thought I was some French guy – Terry or something."
"It's Thierry," Antoine interrupts, mouth twisting into a frown. My stomach drops. I know the name Thierry.
That's the name of Antoine's father.
"Figured – Terry isn't very French." She nods, looking more self-satisfied than she has any right to. I wonder, briefly, how she can look like a policeman to me and an escaped convict to Antoine – but I don't bother worrying about it. Gods do weird things. "Meg thought I was Hebe. Can you imagine? Me, a twelve year old little bitch?"
Leo smirks. "Bitch, yes. Twelve year old…maybe in some demented alternate universe." He gestures to me. "This is Rey. Rey, this is my patron goddess – Nemesis. Goddess of revenge and balance."
"I keep hearing the word patron," Meg cuts in, entering the conversation suddenly enough that we all turn to her. "What does that mean?"
Antoine and Leo both start to explain at the same time, and there is an awkward mental standoff before Antoine backs down. As my curly-haired friend explains, I take the moment to mull over a few of the things that come with this revelation of patrons. "I'm a balanced guy," Leo had said when we first met. Is that what he means? He's a good guy – but he has a bad guy's job, and he steals petty things. Does that make him a balanced person? Does he balance out the other people around him? He definitely makes me feel more in tune with myself, and he has a way of making me spill my secrets. Is it like that with everyone?
My head spins. Too soon after the concussion to think like this, even if it's fully healed at this point – I don't want to risk anything. The realization that Meg has a god devoted to her – and that she's a hero who's destined for shit – seems to be overloading her system, and she's wavering in a blue screen of death moment. She looks ready to drop. Antoine watches her guiltily, hand behind her back to catch her in case she falls. I wonder what happened.
I'm zoned out for the entire time it takes Leo to explain patrons – it'd been the first thing he'd explained back at the warehouse, at my request – so I can't tell you how much time passes before he notices the bags under Meg's eyes. "Enough of that." He cuts himself off, lips curling into a frown. "Piper, Nico, and Hazel said they'd meet us in Portland, and they said they'd gotten there and found a hotel room last time we talked. Nemesis – I actually wanted to talk to you for about that. Think you can get us there?"
Her nose scrunches. "Leo Valdez," she says impatiently, crossing her arms and tapping her foot with mock impatience. "Do you mean to tell me that you didn't call on me purely to ask how I was doing? I'm deeply offended."
"Yeah, well, build a bridge and get over it." She cracks a reluctant smile, and I wonder how a mortal and a goddess can be so cavalier with each other. "Please? The usual sacrifice gig will work for this, right? Just a small cut should do to get us there – preferably to the hotel lobby."
She sighs and relaxes her stance. "Alright, because you asked so nicely," she says sarcastically, "I'll send you up. Sacrifice first, though."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," he grumbles. "Hey Meg, can I use one of your switchblades?"
Frowning in confusion, she hands one to him – and before any of us can move, he flips it out and slices his finger.
It's not enough to cut it off – just a small cut, I recall – but Antoine is wide eyed and backing away so fast he almost trips over his ankle. "Shit," he hisses, sucking in a short breath. He can't seem to take his eyes off Leo, who is now wiping his hand on his pants. "I – I – " He stumbles to a halt. "Shit."
I wince in sympathy. I want to walk across and help him but Nemesis is already nodding satisfiedly. She brings up her hand and – with all the drama of your usual clichéd action movie – snaps.
This is when the monster dust explodes in my face.
I spit out some of it and cough, hacking up my now-burning lungs. "Man, I always miss the good fights," Leo mumbles in complaint. I roll my eyes.
Antoine is a little more observant (for once). "Shit, man! Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I manage, swatting away his attempts to help; upon inspection I realize that we've landed in a fancy hotel room with a double bed and a flat screen TV. The wallpaper is garish but the floor is plush. Monster dust is scattered across the floor. Meg had apparently landed on the bed and has closed her eyes, breathing deeply. She doesn't seem to be asleep yet, but I think that's going to change in a few minutes. Most important, standing in front of us with a giant ass golden sword is a tall man about Leo's age, with immaculate blonde hair and eyes the color of the sky.
"The room service maid," he says lamely. "She was a monster. Um. Sorry."
Not good at first impressions, obviously – but pretty hot. Not as good looking as, say, Antoine, but still. Very few people do I consider more attractive than Antoine.
"Oh my gods," whisper two people at the same time; I look up to say Leo staring in awe and Meg suddenly sitting straight up, eyes wide. I step over to her and Antoine follows me, the two of us exchanging a concerned look. He still looks a little panicked from the blood, but Leo's stuck his hand in his pocket so it should be fading.
"Leo?" Blondie's eyes light up. "They didn't tell me you'd be here! You look good, man. How've you been?"
"I always look good," Leo winks. I snort. He ignores me. "I didn't know they'd found you, either. Man, I bet Piper pitched a fit – " he cuts himself off, grimacing almost nervously. "Oh, sorry."
"No problem." And it really doesn't seem to be a problem – he's full-on grinning, eyes soft. I don't want to say anything, and there's a good chance that I'm wrong, but…the way that they're looking at each other – the way that they can't seem to help exchanging subtle touches – it makes me wonder if I'm the only member of a trio to fall for the hero. The thought makes me wonder even more about Leo's past. I push that aside for now – I've had enough soul-spilling for one day, thank you very much.
The blonde guy's eyes turn to us, curiosity burning. "So," he says, trying to sound nonchalant but ending up sounding stiff and forced. "Who are they?"
"Oh, right! They probably didn't want to tell you anything. 'Cause, you know. Piper." Leo grins impishly while he points straight at me. "That's Rey. He's a Mexican douchebag who nobody likes." His finger moves. "That's Antoine. He's French. His accent sucks, though." He gestures one last time. "That's Meg. She's like…the Nico of their group."
Finally Leo turns and gestures to his friend (?) with a sweeping motion. "Guys," he says in his best announcer's voice, "allow me to introduce – "
"Jason." Every head turns to Meg once again. I sneeze at the monster dust that's still gathered in my face, but past that there's dead silence. "Jason of the Argonauts. The Golden Fleece. Phineas. The Sirens." Antoine swallows, looking a bit paler behind her. Her eyes are locked in this guy, though. "You're him. You're Jason."
Nobody else understands – but it only takes me a moment.
"So you're the girl who knows things," I'd told her on a balcony a million years ago.
"Jason." I stare at him in awe. Suddenly he seems a lot more imposing. "Like – the original Jason? King of Iolcos, husband of Medea – all of that?" She nods, and I take that as a go ahead to ask more questions. "Immortal, or reincarnated?"
"Reincarnation," she says immediately, scrutinizing him as a scientist might observe a particularly strange experiment – one whose results they're not expecting. "Third life. First, Jason, Jason and the Argonauts. Second, Jason Lee – missionary, pioneer. Third – Jason Grace. Son of Zeus." Her voice is dull, as if she's listing off something horribly boring on a study guide for her least favorite class. She looks up calmly into his stunned expression. "And he had no idea up to now."
There's a moment where the room is blanketed in an electrified calm. Then – "Holy shit," Leo mumbles, fiddling with some pipe cleaners he's found gods know where. "I – how – ?"
"Meg's a kid of Mnemosyne," Antoine supplies.
"Titaness of memories," I add helpfully.
Leo almost drops his newest project. "Titaness?"
I grimace as Meg glares at me. "That was a secret?" I mumble weakly as all eyes turn to me. "Oops."
"It wasn't really a secret," Meg sighs, apparently giving in to the fact that she won't be getting sleep any time soon and allowing me a short nod of forgiveness. "It just wasn't brought up. But, yeah – she's the last remaining Titaness. Memory's really important, after all." She wrinkles her nose. "The only reason she's still alive is because she doesn't really do much. She's mostly remembered for being the mother of the Muses, and that's it."
"So you're saying," Jason interrupts, blinking a few hundred times in quick succession, "that I'm not just named after the original Jason – I am him?"
"Yes," Meg says impatiently, rolling her eyes. "Don't look so surprised. It's not like you're the only hero to be a reincarnation – Antoine's on his second life, too."
Antoine jumps at the sound of his name. "Huh? I am?"
She sighs. "Yes. Didn't I mention it to you? You were Antoine de Saint-Exupéry in your last life. Still French – you write The Little Prince. It's pretty famous."
"I'm not remembering this," he complains, looking perplexed.
"Well, of course you're not," she sighs impatiently. "Your mind got wiped with Lethe. The only people who can remember their past lives are children of Hypnos and children of Mnemosyne, and – " her breath catches. "Let's just say it's not exactly a blessing."
"This is your second life?" I should shut up – but I can't help it. I'm curious.
Her glare bores into my skull. Then she flops down on the bed. "Culture shock though this has been, I'm fucking tired. And if you ask me, you all should go to sleep, too. Who knows what we'll face in the morning."
After a good ten minutes of conversation buzzing and Meg trying to block us all out with fancy pillows, things finally wind down; Leo and Jason go to get us more rooms – "How did you all even get the money to pay for this stuff?" "Hazel." (when I ask, they say something about a curse washing away, and I quickly decide that I don't actually want to know) – while Antoine and I pull faces at one another over Meg's back.
I feel guilty. Meg had specifically said that this is her second life, and that her past life brings up bad memories – but I'd gone and asked her about it anyway. She's not visibly mad, of course, because Meg likes to let things stew and pretend to suffer in silence, but I still feel pretty bad.
I can't bring myself to fully apologize, though. In the end, I manage a mumbled "Sorry" while Antoine applauds mockingly.
"It's fine," Meg says, voice distorted by the pillow
My heart sinks. I don't believe her.
By the time I've summoned the courage to say sorry again, she's fast asleep – and even though I've only recently slept for 10+ hours, I decide that it's time for me to get some shut eye, too.
+x+
i need you like a heart needs a beat – but thats nothing new
i loved you with a fire red, now its turning blue and you say
sorry like the angel heaven let me think was you
but im afraid
its too late apologize
+x+
author's note
totally inappropriate song. is this a good time to use yolo? i feel like it is, but who knows
two chapters one day, the next bad porno coming your way. only not. the point is, im trying to catch up with the three or four days where i did approximately seven hundred words a day and as a result you get two updates. small miracles (or not-so-miracles, whatevs)
its kind of funny how when i gush over reviews there are no reviews. coincidence? probably, yeah.