REFLECTION OF THE GODS:

A BSG FIC.

For the next two weeks, Apollo was in a foul mood, locking himself in his room for most of the time. When he did come out, his bloodshot eyes, unshaven beard, and bad temper that had even the Drunk avoiding him.

That's when Zeus called his daughter Artemis over for a chat.

"Hey Dad, what's up," She arrived like she always did, bounding into his den like a graceful deer, breathless and flushed.

He looked up from his scroll and smiled. "So how's my little hurricane?"He gave her a hug and a peck on the cheek before she sat down in his favorite, most comfortable chair (Anybody else but his little girl sitting there would have gotten a thunderbolt between the eyes, including his wife).

"Fine. What's up with you?"

"I'm okay. It's your brother I'm worried about."

"Is he sulking over that Adama boy again?"

"You've heard?"

"Yeah, Dionysus told me about him. You know how Apollo gets when he has a crush. He's like a girl, he gets too emotional. Maybe he got rejected, in which case he probably got his panties in a twist."

"This is different, somehow. This mood is darker, angrier. It's making people nervous. Could you talk to him? He always listens to you."

"Not always, but I'll try."

"Good. And when you do, tell him to throw the Pythias a bone. They're so desperate for a vision that they're ready to eat their snakes."

"Ew! Will do!"

33333

She first checked Apollo's room. His normally neat-as-a-pin bachelor pad was a mess, with the linens thrown off the bed, assorted broken crockery lying untouched by the east wall, and his favorite lyre–his pride and joy–smashed to pieces in the fireplace. Oookay. This does not look good. She ran outside towards the forest, thinking that he might have sought solitude. It didn't take long for her to find him, as a frightened satyr with a black eye pointed her towards the river. There, she saw her brother on the flat rocks, lying on his back, hands behind his head, and eyes looking blankly into space.

He looks like shit, she thought, noticing his shaggy appearance with worry. He never looks like shit. He's too much of a perfectionist to look that awful. Her heart sank, not knowing how to even to begin to deal with this. So she did what she always did when he got sulky–annoyed the crap out of him.

"Hiya, 'Pollo! Wonderful day, isn't it? Full of sunshine, bunny rabbits, and...Whoo! What reeks?" She put her nose to her armpit and inhaled. "Hmm...not too bad. I took a bath this morning. Hmmm..." This time she sniffed the air, turning around slowly as if to hone in on the offensive odor. "Uh huh! It seems to be coming from your direction–wait a minute! It IS you!"

No response, as if he hadn't even heard her.

"You've been a bundle of laughs lately. What's up with you, anyways? Punching out satyrs, using your lyre to hammer down loose nails, scaring the daylights out of Dionysus with your wild mountain-man look. And speaking of scary, did Dad mention that the Pythias are going to start eating their snakes because of you?" The mention of their father earned her a blue-eyed glare. Now we're getting somewhere. "So, why are you being a frakhead? Did somebody criticize your poetry?"

"Go away, Artemis."

"Or did somebody leave a fingerprint on your gym equipment?"

"Just leave me alone."

"Hey, I know! Some junior snot-nosed priest didn't kiss your ass to your satisfaction!"

Apollo sat up, his face starting to redden, hissing through his teeth "I said ...leave me alone. I'm warning you!"

"Or perhaps you've failed to impress yet another reluctant mortal. Heavens, you'd think that when a girl away from you and turns into a tree, that's a hint to–"

"JUST SHUT THE FRAK UP! JUST SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE! I DON'T NEED YOU! I DON'T NEED ANYBODY! I JUST WANT TO BE LEFT IN FRAKING PEACE WITHOUT YOU YAMMERING IN MY EAR! GET THE FRAK OUT!"

Artemis was riveted to where she stood, shocked and hurt by her brother's words, feeling the tears starting to form in her eyes. She wanted to scream, punch him in the face until he bled, tell him to go to Tartarus. But instead, after almost an eternity of silence, she quietly said, "Fine," and suddenly turned and ran off towards the deepest part of the forest.

As his sister's footsteps faded away, Apollo immediately felt like shit. He hadn't wanted to hurt her, he just wanted her to shut up for a minute. He jumped up to his feet and jogged towards the direction that she took off, cupping his hands over his mouth as he ran.

"Artemis! Artemis! I'm sorry!"

After a few minutes, he stopped and listened, only hearing birds chirping.

"I didn't mean to say those things!"

Still not a peep.

"I was being a frakhead!"

Not a whisper.

"I don't really want to be alone! I need you! Come back!"

Nothing.

A second later, a fist-sized rock flew through the air with deadly aim, striking him in the back of the head with deadly aim, knocking him face-down onto the leafy forest floor. Groaning, he lifted his head, Artemis' sandaled feet in front of his face.

"Say please."

"Ugh. Please," he rubbed the lump developing on his noggin. "Did you have to hit so hard?"

"Yep. Besides, somebody's gotta knock you off your pity pedestal." She reached out her hand for him to grab.

"You're definitely gifted at that."

When she'd pulled him to his feet, she sighed, "So, why are you being a frakhead?"

He took his sister by the hand and led her back to the flat rocks and sat them down. He told her everything, about the boy, the arrogance of his father and their own, how he himself felt. Normally she was all sass and mouth, but at times like these, she could be a good listener. He found comfort in her attentive silence, finding the strength to admit to himself things he had denied for eons. When he was done, he felt freer that he had in a long time.

"Wow. And I thought this was the whole Daphne thing all over again. You usually go cuckoo like this over somebody you're infatuated with. I had no idea you had this whole Dad- resentment churning inside.

"I didn't know either until I saw this kid. He's beautiful, intelligent...he's so much more than his father can see."

"Show me."

33333

A classroom appeared before them, with the late morning sun shining though the ancient window panes. All thirty or so desks were occupied by adolescents with their heads bowed down in concentration, their pencils scribbling and erasing. They are marking sheets of paper with bubbles marked "A", "B", "C", and "D". It was the CSAT–Colonial Standard Achievement Test–the means by which any school-aged child with an ambition to attend an institution of higher education gauged his future. Ah yes, Lee had been studying for this for weeks. That's what that history book was for. And there he was, in the spot front and center, wracking his brain over a trigonometry problem involving a viper and a battlestar.

33333

"Wow! Brains and good looks. No wonder you're flustered."

"I told you, it's not like that."

"I know. He's got the whole future ahead of him, right."

"Right."

"And the girls and boys are going to go gaga over him."

"If he'll let them."

"Ah yes, another late developer."

"What can I say? He's a thinker."

"More like an over-thinker."

"Call it what you may."

"And he's an ungrateful whiner..."

"What! After what I told you? This kid has no future of his own! He's at the mercy of–"

"Just shut up for a moment and let me show you something."

TBC