Hm, lots of things are going on in this chapter. Enjoy!
He smiled at the sleeping girl. She was curled into herself, which he'd discovered over the course of the week was how she usually slept. He lightly stroked her soft curls, and bent over to kiss her forehead. She started and her eyes blinked open, looking at him in a way that suggested that she was not truly awake.
"Hermes?"
He smiled again. "Go back to sleep, Lucy."
She mumbled something and her eyes closed again.
He straightened and made sure the curtains were sealed, not allowing the streaming sunshine in.
It was the middle of the day, but the strange "time zone" of Katafygio had caused Lucy to fall asleep almost immediately upon return to New York. And so Hermes had tucked her in and decided to take care of some business.
He shut the door carefully behind him and disappeared.
The blonde goddess looked up. Her bow, halfway strung, tightened in her grip. When she saw who it was, she relaxed.
"What are you doing here, Hermes?"
He sat on a rock next to her.
"I want to ask you a few things."
Artemis cocked her head curiously. "What is it that you wish to know?"
"You know what happened to Lucy." It was not a question. She regarded him for a moment before nodding.
"Yes. Why do you ask?"
"I want to know something."
She sighed. "Hermes, as much as I would like to destroy the worthless mortal, I have refrained because Lucy does not wish me to. I will not let you give justice in what I should but cannot. And besides," she predicted his interruption, "she would not be happy if you did."
"Yes I know." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I actually didn't want that information."
She looked at her brother inquisitively. "Then what?"
"Who was her doctor?"
At this, Artemis understood sharply and frowned at him. "You do not want to do that, Hermes."
"Yes, I do," he insisted. "Please, Artemis."
She shook her head slowly. "I did not take you for the masochistic type."
"Artemis, please just tell me."
She stared at him silently for a long moment before sighing.
"Fine."
As soon as she told him, he vanished. She looked up at the moon. "Selene, love is nonsense."
"Dr. Nakamura?"
The woman looked up. "Yes?"
A young man with dark brown hair stood in front of her. His eyes, a bright, piercing green, looked so familiar.
"I believe one of your patients was a Lucy Harrison?"
She nodded, connecting the young man's looks to the girl's.
"Ah, are you a relative?"
"Yes, her brother."
"I can see that; you have the same eyes." She put down the folders she was looking through and turned her full attention to the man. "I must say, I'm quite relieved that she's informed her family of her predicament."
He nodded, not saying anything.
"She adamantly refused to talk about you at all beyond what was necessary. I did not even know if you were still on speaking terms."
"What has she said about us?"
The doctor shrugged. "That she was estranged ever since the…" She thought. "Incident. Nothing more that that."
"Yes. Well, I had been gone during that time, deployed in Iraq. But when I came back and found out…Well, I just wanted to talk to you about it."
"Of course." The doctor leaned against the edge of her desk. "Please, sit." She gestured to a plastic chair and he obeyed. "What would you like to know?"
"Well…what happened? I mean, how did she come to…learn of the…" He had a difficult time saying the word.
"Cancer," she prompted gently. She'd seen many examples of loved ones finding it hard to simply say the word, some more so than the patients themselves. "Well, one day she came to me. She said that she'd heard that I was a doctor that specialized in…cases like hers. She explained it a bit, just enough for me to understand her situation. Then she told me some of the symptoms she'd been having. I recommended a pap smear, which came back negative. Then of course, it was a variety of different tests that confirmed the cancer and how far along it had progressed. I was…" The woman frowned. "Very disturbed at the level it had advanced to. It was in one of the final stages, and she should not have been capable of the amount of work she was doing at the time. The only possibility at that point was a hysterectomy. It was extreme, but any other treatment, even had she been able to afford it, would have been too slow to be effective. She would have died otherwise—sir? Are you okay?"
She stared in concern at the young man, who appeared to be choking his umbrella. He cleared his throat and loosened his grip.
"Yes, yes, of course. Please do go on."
"Yes." She looked at him doubtfully before continuing.
"The surgery went well, but afterwards there were…" She thought. "Complications that necessitated a much longer post-ops stay than we expected."
"What happened?"
She gauged the young man's expression warily. "Internal hemorrhaging. It is a risk that comes with all surgeries, of course."
"Of course."
"Once she was recovered, however, we set up a health care regime and sent her on her way. She comes in once every few months for a check-up." She glanced at her calendar. "Her next one is coming up in a couple weeks, actually." The doctor looked at the young man. "Was that what you wanted to know?"
He pressed his lips together and stood. "Yes, thank you, doctor."
They shook hands.
She watched the young man exit her office. He seemed very devoted to the girl; it was a pity that he had not been in America when his sister had been going through the surgery. She had always thought that the frail girl had seemed so alone. The woman who came often acted like her mother, but was not granted the family visiting hours that she earned. One of the things the doctor regretted the most when it came to Lucy's case was releasing her from the hospital when she did. She deserved the care that she most certainly did not get at home. It was an interesting property of Lucy, to bring out the motherly instinct in these women. Such a fragile, weak young girl triggered pity in all the nurses that assisted her. She had probably been one of the most cared-for creatures in the hospital. But seeing the girl laying in the oversized hospital bed was almost as pathetic as watching her wheeled out the doors. She was just glad her brother was back to take care of her.
As soon as he found an empty hallway, he disappeared, reappearing in front of Lucy's apartment. He put his ear to the door and, when he heard movement, knocked gently.
She opened it, hair slightly mussed. She still had not yet changed her clothes, and pulled the sweater tighter, even in the warming weather. She had been smiling initially, but when she saw the expression on his face, the smile faltered and faded away.
"Where were you?"
He walked in and sat on the sofa stonily. She closed the door slowly and sat, watching the god warily.
"Hermes?"
"You didn't tell me." He spit out the words between gritted teeth and she drew back. He sighed when he saw her expression and dropped his head into his hands.
"Lucy, you didn't tell me how bad it was."
"How bad what was? Where did you go?"
"I went to see Dr. Nakamura."
Her eyes widened. "No."
He nodded.
"How did you find her?" Lucy's voice was faint.
"That's not the point. The point is, Lucy, you didn't tell me what happened!"
Her eyes flashed. "I'm sorry if I didn't exactly want to spill all my deep dark secrets on one night. It was painful enough talking about the one, after reliving what caused it."
He looked up during her outburst. His anger leaked away when he saw her glare. "I'm sorry. I just…I wish so much that you didn't have to go through that alone."
She sighed. "I wasn't alone."
"What do you mean?"
"Marley was with me the entire time. She couldn't come into the hospital or anything, because she wasn't technically family, but I owe her so much."
He stared at her for a long moment. The god took a deep breath and she knew he was going to say something that she wouldn't like.
"Lucy…I know you don't want me to, I know you're against it, but please let me help you."
"What do you mean?"
"Let me find you a better place to live."
Her eyes were hard. "No."
He threw his hands up in the air. "Why not?"
"Because I refuse to feel like…" She looked away.
"Like what?"
"Like a…gold-digger!"
He looked at her in astonishment and, much to her surprise, burst out laughing. She blushed angrily.
"Why are you laughing at me?" she demanded.
"A gold-digger? Lucy, I just…why would you think that?"
"Because I have nothing and you have everything!" Her hands curled into fists and she looked like she was about to burst into furious tears.
He sobered. "You're being serious…"
"Of course I'm being serious."
"Lucy, I don't care about any of that stuff. You do realize that? I couldn't care less if you were the richest woman in the world or the poorest. It simply doesn't matter to me. And I want to help you! I want to do this. You're depriving me of what I want."
"No, it's not just that, although that's definitely part of it."
"Then what is it?"
"You're just so…nice. And I don't…I don't deserve that."
It was his turn to get angry. "What, you don't deserve to finally have some small form of happiness after all the hell you've been through?"
She flinched away from his sharp voice and his energy dissolved. He ran his hands over his face and held them out to her. She reluctantly climbed into his embrace, and he pulled her closer to his chest.
"Lucy, I just want you to be happy."
"I'm happy right now. I don't need things. Just you."
He kissed her lightly, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"I don't understand you sometimes, but I think you might be in candidacy for sainthood."
Her forehead against his throat, she smiled sadly.
"I'm no saint. Maybe you'll see that one day."
"I could never see any bad in you."
"Wanna bet?" She pulled away, her expression sweetly woeful. She kissed him on the nose and stood up, walking toward the kitchen. He stayed on the couch. When she turned again, the peculiar sadness had disappeared and she had a cheeky smile on her face.
"Aren't you going to show off your cooking skills again?"
He grinned widely, following her into the kitchen.
"What, you don't want to blow up this stove?"
She smacked his chest. "Shut up! I can't believe you."
"I'm quite real, darling."
Lucy rolled her eyes. "Unfortunately."
He acted hurt. "Well. I can go, if that's what you wish." He began to disappear. She sighed and placed her hands on her hips.
"Give up the act, Hermes. Get back here and make dinner."
Ignoring her orders, he completely disappeared. She rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest.
"Hermes," she called in annoyance.
"Yes?"
The smooth voice came from behind her, very close behind her, tickling her ear with its proximity. She jumped, turning around and holding her hand up to her throat.
"You nearly gave me a heart attack," she accused the grinning god. He blinked innocently.
"I would never!"
"Just—Just go make dinner, will you?"
He laughed at her irate expression and obeyed with a flourish, whirling to the refrigerator, opening its door and scanning its contents.
"You know," he remarked, staring into the fridge, "it's usually the woman cooking for the man."
"Usually," she replied from her seat on the counter, "the man isn't an immortal god who's had goodness knows how many years of cooking experience."
He looked up, pointing a wooden spoon in her direction.
"Touché."
She shrugged, smiling. "I learned from the best."
He nodded smugly. "So you did."
Lucy rolled her eyes, tossing a lemon at him, which he caught deftly. "Don't go getting a big head now."
He grinned. "Too late."
She closed her eyes and shook her head, leaning back against the cabinets.
"You are incorrigible."
He pulled out a package of chicken. "Maybe, but I'm also an excellent cook. I should get one of those aprons that says 'kiss the chef.'"
He dumped the chicken into a pan, which immediately began to sizzle on the stove.
Lucy opened her eyes and grinned at him. "You don't need excuses."
He raised an eyebrow at her and she blushed, but the mischievous grin didn't leave her face.
"Is that an invitation?"
Her eyes didn't waver from his. "I did say you didn't need an excuse."
He walked to her, closing the distance easily. When he stood against her legs, she leaned forward, looking into his eyes.
"I do trust you, Hermes."
He closed the distance between them.
It was a breathless Lucy who pulled away, smiling in amusement.
"You should probably check on the chicken."
The god's eyes widened and he darted to the unattended meal. The girl laughed at him, and he took the time to give her an exasperated look before rescuing his poultry.
"I haven't blown up a stove," he reminded her. She scowled at his back.
"You've ruined it."
He grinned brightly, holding up the chicken.
"No, I saved it," he announced cheerfully.
She shook her head in amused vexation.
"I don't know why I put up with you, sometimes."
He looked at her with an expression that made her gasp, turning pink.
"Neither do I," he said softly.
The god woke at a calculated time. Lucy was still not awake, and in all likelihood would not wake for a good amount of time. Yet the one he desired to talk to would be.
He got down to the shop right after it opened. The woman turning the sign in the window looked inquisitively at him, and beckoned him inside.
"Why are you down here so early, Harry?" She gestured to a seat at the counter, which he took. She ducked behind the counter and looked at him with a motherly expression. It was odd how a woman a fraction of his age could make him feel so young. Certainly Hera never acted like this to him, and his own mother had long since gone.
"I understand that you played a large role in helping Lucy during her…recovery."
She exhaled in comprehension. "So she's told you then."
He nodded.
"I'm surprised. She hasn't told anyone else. Not even the friend's she's made here." The woman looked searchingly at the man. "But you are not like her other friends."
He smiled weakly. "I would hope not."
"I expect you'll treat her well," she said firmly. He nodded earnestly.
"I would never think of anything otherwise."
"You are an interesting one…" She sighed. "What is it that you came to my café at seven in the morning for?"
"I want to…well, not compensate you, but…thank you for taking care of Lucy during that time."
Her eyebrows rose. "What are you saying?"
"I have a very large sum of money," complete understatement—the amount of extra money he had laying around would astound every mortal on the planet, but then, he was the god of trade, "and I would like to 'donate' some to your business."
She shook her head. "I do not accept donations like that."
He was mystified. "Why not?"
"I helped Lucy because I wanted to. Because it was the right thing to do. Because to not help that sweet little girl would have been the absolute most heatless thing in the world. She's like a daughter to me. And I will not be paid to take care of my daughter."
He sat back, watching the woman with respect. "She takes after you."
Marley smiled affectionately. "No. She came that way."
"How did you meet her, Marley?"
The woman's brow creased as she thought. "Hm. I saw her standing in front of my shop. Every day for a week. She would never come in, just stare at the food until she noticed me staring at her, and then she would vanish. And so the eighth day I sat outside and waited for her to walk by. I asked what her name was and then offered for her to come inside. I told her, 'you don't have to pay to sit in my shop.'" The woman smiled. "So she came in, and eventually the smells got to her and she got so hungry I was able to press a piece of pound cake on her. In time she opened up and I found out she didn't have a job, so I searched and got her one. She didn't have a home, so I helped her find one. She didn't have a mother, and I didn't have a daughter. So it worked out."
She handed him the coffee she'd been brewing as she told her story.
"How long did it take her?"
He looked up, startled. "What?"
"How long did it take her to tell you what happened?"
"She told me about the…incident a few months ago. But she didn't tell me about the cancer until this past week."
Marley looked surprised. "Really? That soon?"
He nodded.
"That's surprising."
"We both had rather sensitive secrets to share. It was a tradeoff of sorts."
"When did you start?"
"Excuse me?"
"When did you start loving her?"
The question, spoken so simply and casually, caught him off guard. The woman merely stared at him patiently.
When he answered, his voice was soft.
"The very first day."
Marley nodded, as if he'd confirmed her guess.
"Well, Harry, I hope you can keep hold of her. Because the ride is going to get rough before it gets better."
Ah, Marley, you ended it so appropriately I feel wrong writing this right now. Because, my dear readers, she is correct. And the ride's about to get bumpy.
Drink or don't drink?