Athena sat comfortably against the pillow she'd propped up on the arm of the couch, her legs stretched out to other end, half turning so she could see the TV on the other side of the small living room. She just stared at the screen, no longer really seeing what was happening on the movie she'd started over an hour ago. At first, it had served as a welcome distraction from all the thoughts swirling around in her mind. But now, it was nothing but noise, no longer enough to drown out the much louder emotions that had been whirling around inside her since the start of everything that had happened in the last few days.
She straightened up in her seat, putting her feet on the floor as she reached for the remote on the small table next to her. She put the remote back after she turned the TV off, sitting back against the couch as she let out a small, quiet sigh. She hoped that going about her day the same way she always did would help her begin working through the strong emotions that the last few days had left behind. Keeping busy and being surrounded by the familiar was one of the best ways to stay at ease while coping with a difficult time, so she decided it would be best if she treated this day as if it were any other. It helped at first, the normalcy of her everyday routine helping to dilute the strong emotions just enough that they weren't overwhelming her. But now, on day two of her extended weekend, the comfort of her normal routine was no longer enough.
She wrapped her arms around herself, her eyebrows turning down in a pained grimace as the pain brought on by recent events stung her chest all over again. It wasn't that she hadn't come to terms with it. In truth, she'd come to accept her mother's death long ago. She was well past her grieving point, and she'd long since put it behind her, knowing that dwelling on it would do nothing but keep her from moving on with her life. But, no matter how much time passed, she'd never been able to fully leave it in the past. No matter where she went or what she tried to do with her life after that, the circumstances of her mother's death continued to linger in the back of her unconscious mind. Even when she thought she'd fully put the incident behind her, it was still there, like a shadow haunting the back of her mind, one that refused to let her go. And she never understood why. If she'd come to accept her mother's death and had taken the time she needed to grieve, why was it still haunting her?
And then, when the incidents that took place in the passed few days led to re-opening an investigation into her mother's murder, she suddenly found herself face to face with the shadow. The one that had been haunting her, the faceless darkness that had been draped over her for the past seven years, the one that would never let her rest even after she thought it was all over. It revealed itself to her, forcing her to face a possibility that, if it were true, would have destroyed her.
Buried deep in the depths of her heart, so deep that even she was unaware of it herself, was the possibility that she was responsible for her mother's death.
Even now, after the investigation proved that such a thing wasn't true, even after her proven innocence insured that she would never have to accept such a cruel reality… she still had yet to fully recover. Even after learning that she wasn't guilty of such a terrible thing, the fact that she'd had to face the possibility at all had opened a deep wound inside her heart. It didn't matter that it would have only been an accident, an unintentional tragedy caused by the naivete of her mind as a child at the time. It did nothing to lessen the pain brought on by the possibility that she was the reason her mother was no longer here.
And now that the trial was over and her innocence had been definitively proven, the shadow that had hovered over her for the past seven years was gone. She was no longer haunted by its darkness, the last thing keeping her from putting her mother's death behind her finally gone. It closed the wound in her heart, and allowed her to start healing. But, even though she was free to move on, the wound was still there. Though it had closed, it was still tender. She was relieved and glad she could finally put it all behind her, but she knew it would take time to heal. The pain was much deeper when her mother died, and since that had healed, she knew all she needed now was a little time. She would get through it, just as she had before.
But, more than any of this, what wounded her heart deeper than any of this… was how worried she was about Apollo.
She was far from the only one that was affected by the events of the past few days. If anyone was hurting more deeply than her, it was Apollo. The re-investigation of her mother's murder wasn't the only case that had happened in the last few days. Before any of that even began, before she'd been forced to come face to face with her past, Apollo was forced to face the very recent and sudden murder of his childhood best friend. And unlike Athena's old wounds that had reopened and were already healing, Apollo's were fresh, still bleeding as his grief was still at its highest peak.
And as she sat here, at a loss of what to do for him, she felt nothing but helpless.
After the trial ended two days ago, he seemed like he was feeling better than he had since this all started. The waves of emotion she heard in his voice were still shifting, not quite back to what they were before. But he was smiling, something he hadn't done since this all started. Because of that, she'd assumed he was on the road to recovery. He would need time, but he already appeared to be coming to terms with it all.
But now, she was worried that she couldn't have been more wrong. Ever since they'd gone off to their own homes after the end of the trial two days ago, she'd been trying to reach him. Now that her proven innocence had restored his faith in her, there was nothing stopping them from going back to being the way they were before. They hadn't seen much of each other since this all started, so she was eager to start spending time with him again. Now that the doubts he'd had in her had vanished, there was no reason they couldn't continue their friendship where it left off. Knowing how much they both needed to unwind, she tried calling him yesterday to see if he wanted them to spend some time together. But he didn't answer. No matter how many times she called, no matter how many texts she sent, he didn't respond. And that did nothing but worry her.
She wasn't worried that he still had doubts in her. Though his emotions weren't quite back to their normal peaks just yet, one thing she was certain of was that he trusted her again. She didn't even need her special hearing to know that. Even without hearing his voice, the look in his eyes was enough to tell her that he would never doubt her again. And that was enough for her. Though hearing how much he doubted her was painful, though having to accept the idea that he suspected her of such terrible things was like a stab to her heart, not once did she put any blame on him. With everything that he'd seen, with all the evidence against her, he had no choice but to suspect her. It would have been wrong for him to ignore it, and she knew that. He only did what he felt was right, and she could never fault him for doing anything it took to find the truth. The only thing that mattered now was that it was behind them, and the experience had strengthened their trust into a bond that could never be severed. Rather than this experience tearing them apart, it brought them closer than they'd ever been before.
And that was exactly what had her so worried. This experience had strengthened their trust in one another, teaching them that they could confide in each other about anything. So why was he refusing to answer her when she tried to reach out to him?
At first, she thought maybe he was refusing to answer her because he needed some time alone. Maybe for him, the start of his healing would be to have some time to himself, to start coming to terms with the loss on his own. Though it was hard to ignore her worry, that was why she'd left him alone after he refused to pick up the phone yesterday. If time alone was what he needed, she didn't want to interrupt him. For as long as it took, she would leave him be, giving him the time he needed to heal.
But now, as she sat here with these thoughts running through her mind once again, she realized that she couldn't be more wrong.
When she'd lost her mother, she'd also tried to tell herself that she could carry the pain on her own. Because, in a way, she did have to carry it on her own. After her mother passed, everything Athena had ever known immediately changed. As if losing her mother wasn't enough for her to deal with on its own, she was also taken from the only home she'd ever known. She'd lived in the space center with her mother as far back as she could remember. And thanks to the complications brought on by her special hearing, she spent the majority of the first eleven years of her life inside, leaving her with barely any understanding of the world outside. And then, just like that, she was forced to leave it all behind to live in a world that felt strange and frightening to her. Even after she went to move in with family in another country, she felt no relief or comfort. They may have been family but, because she'd never met them before, they were strangers to her. They knew nothing of her hearing abilities or the hardships it brought her, so they couldn't help her cope with hearing all the strong emotions in the voices of the people in the outside world. Even when she tried to explain it to them, they didn't understand. She had yet to learn the right way to explain her ability to other people, so she couldn't make them understand. They just thought it was the imagination of a grieving child that had been raised in a sheltered world, so they didn't try.
Though she'd tried to reach out to them for comfort and understanding, they were unable to give it to her. It left her with no one comfortable or familiar for her to find comfort in, no one to understand her ability or who she was. She felt alone. And, to a degree, she was alone.
All she'd wanted was for someone to hold her, to let her grieve in the safety of the arms of someone who loved her. To make her feel safe, to make her feel like everything would be okay. But, with her family being strangers to her and her inability to make them understand… she was left alone. Even after some time passed and she got to know her family enough that they were no longer strangers, she'd still worked through the hardest part of her life by herself. Even though she'd worked through it in the end, the grieving process was long and painful, much longer than it would have been if she hadn't been alone.
And now, as she sat here, knowing from experience the kind of pain Apollo was in, she feared he was putting himself through the same thing. She didn't know if he was refusing to reach out to her because he felt that he couldn't count on her for this, or he just thought she wouldn't understand. But what she did know, was that she wasn't going to let him grieve alone. She may not have had anyone to help her in her time of need. But, one thing she knew for certain, was that she was going to make sure Apollo did. She cared for him too much to do anything less. Even if he refused her help, even if he wasn't ready to reach out to her… she would at least let him know that she was there whenever he was.
Her mind made up, she got out of her seat and headed for the front door to her apartment, grabbing her keys on the way out. If he wouldn't answer her calls, she would just have to go see him personally. She wouldn't leave him on his own, letting him bleed when she could be there to help him close his wounds. No matter what it it took, she would let him know that he wasn't alone. She would make sure he knew that she was there, and always would be whenever he needed her.
Apollo lay back on the couch, one arm over his waist and the other laid across his forehead. He just stared up at the ceiling, watching as the setting sun cast a slow moving shadow along the surface. He'd long since stopped trying to find distractions from the thoughts that were endlessly repeating inside his mind. Nothing he did would silence them, so he stopped trying. His chest felt heavy, like a weight was weighing it down, just enough that he could still breathe but could no longer move. It was uncomfortable, and it made him feel numb. But that was fine. Because the numbness suppressed his emotions, he no longer had to endure the pain that had been tearing him up inside since the moment he arrived home two days ago.
Ever since he'd received news of his best friend's death, when he was forced to face the sudden passing of the friend he'd known since he was a child, he'd felt lost. Though he was aware of the reality of what he was hearing, it hadn't really sunken in. He felt strangely detached, as if his mind knew he wasn't ready to face the pain and was trying to protect him from it. Instead of letting the grief take over him, he put all of his focus into investigating his friend's murder, deciding that his time would be better spent finding the culprit than it would be letting himself drown in the sorrow.
But in reality, he'd just been running away. He allowed himself to be pulled into a kind of denial, allowing his mind to detach him from the reality so he wouldn't have to face it. Instead, he let the investigation be his distraction, not ready to feel the pain he knew awaited him whenever he let it sink in. And for a while, it worked. The denial detached him from the case, numbing him and placing a lid over the emotions that were threatening to boil over inside him. It allowed him to investigate without letting his personal feelings get in the way.
That was, until his investigation led him to a cruel possibility. One that, if it were true, would have caused his emotions to boil over and drown him.
But he didn't have a choice. Not with all the evidence against her. No matter how much he didn't want to believe it, no matter how much it tore him up inside to consider the idea that Athena was the one who'd taken his best friend away from him… he didn't have a choice. It would be wrong to look the other way and pretend he didn't notice, risking the chance of the truth being forever lost. No matter what his investigation led him to, no matter what truth awaited him, he had to face the possibility.
But it didn't make it any less painful to continue his investigation with Athena as the main suspect.
Then, after the trial led to the identity of the real culprit and her innocence was definitively proven, it felt like the weight of the world had been removed from his shoulders. The darkness that had been hovering over him, the veil of doubt that had been slowly suffocating him, had vanished. With her exoneration, he could wholeheartedly put his trust in her once again, making him feel that he could breathe again.
But it wasn't until he returned home that same night that the reality of everything that happened came crashing down on him. With no distractions to shield him or denial to enable him to run away, without the celebratory atmosphere of everyone at the agency to raise his spirits, the reality of the loss finally sunk in. His body suddenly felt weak, and he was so overwhelmed that he could barely breathe. His head was cloudy, the weight on his shoulders so heavy that he didn't know how he was still standing.
So over the next two days, left alone in the silence of his apartment with nothing left to use as a lifeline, his sorrow began to drown him.
It made no difference what he did or how he went about his day. The pain never lessened and the thoughts never ended, so he stopped trying. He just lay there, the room gradually beginning to darken as the day slowly turned to evening. He didn't get up to turn on a light, not even after the shadow on the ceiling reached the back wall of his living room, shadowing the entire room in a soft, gray darkness. Though the natural light coming in from the window was low, he could still see. Even if he couldn't, it didn't matter. He wasn't doing anything that required him to see, so it wasn't necessary. He would just lay there as the night fell, hoping that maybe attempting to rest on the couch would allow him to finally get some sleep. Trying to sleep in his bed the night before left him lying awake all night, so maybe a little change of scenery would help him rest. But he doubted something as simple as laying on the couch instead of his bed would be enough to help him find any rest. Though he felt so exhausted that sleep should come easily to him, though the lack of sleep as well as the emotions that had been surging through him since this all began were making him feel worn and weak, he still couldn't sleep no matter how hard he tried.
Because, every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Athena's face, her expression twisted in a heartbroken look of betrayal.
The image of her standing there, watching him with eyes that pleaded for him to explain how he could suspect her of something so terrible, it slashed through his chest so painfully that his breath caught in his throat. His face twisted into a pained grimace, the muscles in his arms tensing as he clenched his hands, the reminder of what he'd done to her playing in his head all over again. It didn't matter that there had been evidence against her. It didn't matter that he'd had no choice but to follow the evidence to wherever it led, even if it was to a cruel reality where she was guilty. And it didn't matter that the trial had proven her to be innocent. What did matter, what cut his heart so deeply that he could barely breathe, was that he'd accused her of murder. He'd accused Athena, the one he'd quickly come to know as a close friend, the one who shared his same strong sense of truth and justice, of taking another person's life. Even though he knew deep down that it wasn't possible, even though he knew that the friend he'd come to know and trust over the last year wasn't capable of taking another person's life, he still let the suspicion take hold. Unable to turn away from the evidence against her, he'd let the seed of doubt take root. And as his investigation went on, the seed grew, watered by his grief and his desperation to bring the one who'd murdered his best friend to justice. And it sprouted, the branches growing so tall that they blinded him, blocking his view so that he could no longer see her. Even when he knew deep down that she was innocent, even when he knew in the depths of his heart how much his accusations were wounding her, the seed's branches blocked his vision, making it impossible to see anything but his desperation for the truth. It wasn't until her exoneration that the branches vanished, finally allowing him to see her without suspicion or doubt clouding his eyes.
And it wasn't until then, seeing her with his vision clear once again, that it finally dawned on him. Why it had hurt him so badly to consider the idea that she was a murderer, why he felt like there would be nothing left for him in the world if Athena was guilty of something as unthinkable as taking another person's life. In truth, he'd known the reason since the start. But after he'd been forced to consider her a suspect, he quickly buried it into the back of his mind, knowing that, if he admitted it to himself, he would no longer be able to move forward. So he put it away, refusing to let it come to the surface. He just kept telling himself that he felt this way because he couldn't bear the idea that he could no longer trust her, that her guilt would have caused him to lose another close friend. But now, as he reflected on his behavior and allowed the emotions he'd kept hidden to come to the surface, he was no longer able to run a way from the truth.
The reason that accusing her had been so painful, the reason that her guilt would have destroyed him… was because he was falling in love with her.
But that realization did nothing to ease his guilt. Instead, it worsened it. Instead of just accepting the reality that he'd accused his close friend of murder, he now had to accept the fact that he'd accused the woman he loved of taking another person's life. And the thought alone sickened him. His chest pounded, and his stomach lurched. It didn't matter that she was unaware of how he felt about her. It didn't matter that she'd forgiven him, that she understood why he suspected her and didn't put any blame on him. And it didn't matter that the experience had brought them closer than they'd ever been before. What did matter was that he'd accused her of murder. Even with her exoneration, that reality remained. And there was nothing he could do or say that would have the power to take it back. She may have been ready to put it all behind them, but he still couldn't let go.
After he'd done something so unthinkable, he didn't know how he could ever face her again.
A rhythmic sound echoed in the quiet room. When he turned his head to look for the source, his eyes landed a little ways away from where he lay and onto the front door to his apartment. He just stared at it for a moment, starting to wonder if he was hearing things when silence fell over the room again. But when the sound echoed again, he knew he wasn't imagining things. Someone was knocking on the door.
For a moment, he considered ignoring it. But because laying here staring at the shadows on the ceiling was proving to be a poor distraction, he decided to answer it. Even if it was just someone trying to sell him something he would never buy, maybe it would give his mind something else to focus on for a while.
He slowly sat up, placing his feet on the floor as he let out a sigh. He stood up and ran a hand through his hair as he approached the door, wondering if he was even presentable enough to answer it. He was sure his lack of sleep had him looking like a mess, and he'd never bothered changing out of the sweatpants and t-shirt that he'd worn while trying and failing to sleep last night. But he had no reason to dress up in his own home for a stranger, so he decided not to worry about it. He padded across the living room floor in his stocking feet, then opened the door without any hesitation.
And when his eyes landed on the person on the other side of the door, the numbness in his chest shattered as a wave of emotions too numerous to identify spread through his entire body.
Athena just stood there, barely inches away as she stood in front of the open door. Her arms were folded over each other, her hands gripping her arms just above her elbows as if she were hugging herself. She made no effort to move or say anything, just standing there and watching him silently. They just stared at each other for a few silent moments as Apollo tried and failed to figure out what she was thinking. Other than a small frown that creased her brow, her expression was mostly blank, leaving him having no idea what was on her mind.
But when he looked into her eyes, he saw a worry so deep that not even the calming, soft blue hue of her eyes was enough to hide it.
And then, just like that, she unfolded her arms and put her hands on her hips, smiling so brightly at him that it was as if she'd never been upset in the first place.
"Hey there, sleepyhead!" she started, her expression unchanging. "You look like you were taking a nap." Her smile widened. "I hope I didn't wake you."
He just blinked at her, still surprised to see that Athena had been the one standing at his door. It wasn't just because he hadn't been expecting it, but also because she'd never been to his apartment before. Even though they'd started spending time together outside of work on a regular basis a long time ago, they'd never been to each other's homes. And he couldn't even begin to imagine why she'd chosen now to suddenly show up unannounced, especially this late in the evening. At least his surprise in seeing her pulled him away from the slew of emotions enough that he could start thinking clearly enough to answer her.
"U-uh…." he started. His voice was a bit raspy, so he cleared his throat before he spoke again. "No… no, you didn't."
"Good!" she said, still smiling like nothing was strange about her presence here.
Before he could think of anything else to say, he suddenly saw her arms shake. He just stared, a confused frown furrowing his brow as he watched her. For some reason, the meaning of it didn't click in his head, so he just stared at her to try and see if he could figure out what happened. It wasn't until he was actually taking a good look at her that he finally noticed the soft pink coloring her face and arms. It was like her skin was covered in long red blotches, similar to the ones that appeared after being exposed to the cold for too long.
And when that clicked in his head, his eyes suddenly widened.
"Y-You didn't walk here, did you?" he asked, staring at her in disbelief.
"Of course not, silly!" she said, still smiling like nothing was wrong. "I ran!"
His eyes widened even further. Because of the way she was, he knew he shouldn't have been surprised by this. Whenever she needed to travel, she always preferred to go on foot over any other travel option. Even so, he couldn't imagine why she'd decided to run all the way here in nothing but jeans and a t-shirt when it was currently late December. "Where's your coat?"
"I forgot it!" she said, smiling like there was nothing wrong with what she said.
Before he could even think of anything else to say, her arms shook again. It wasn't until now, after hearing that she'd run all the way here in below freezing temperature without a coat, that he realized she was shivering. And she just kept standing there, smiling at him like nothing was wrong.
And as he watched her stand there, trying and failing to hide how cold she was from him, it sorted the emotions inside him and pulled a desperate worry to the surface.
His worry for her suddenly moving him on a kind of autopilot, he reached out to her and wrapped his fingers around her arm just above her wrist. He knew he could have just asked her to come in rather than grab her like this. But because she was currently trying to hide how cold she was from him, he suspected that she would refuse his offer if he simply asked her to come inside. He'd learned long ago how stubborn she could be, and he was all but certain that she would choose to stand there and continue to pretend she was fine rather than accept his invitation.
And with the way her arm felt like ice against the palm of his hand, he wanted to be sure that her stubbornness wouldn't win over her need to come inside and start getting warm.
He pulled her in through the doorway, using his other hand to shut the door once they were both inside. His worry for her still controlling his movement, he turned and guided her over to the living room, coming to a stop when they reached the couch. He let go of her wrist and reached for the folded blanket that was on the back of the couch, quickly grabbing it and unfolding it as he turned back around to face her. The blanket was small and wouldn't be enough to cover her entire body, but it would at least help her start to get warm.
"You don't need to pretend you're fine," he said as he draped the blanket over her shoulders. He pulled the ends of the blanket down over her arms to make sure she was as covered as possible. "You're just gonna make it worse if you just stand there like that." He lowered his hands to his sides but didn't move away, remaining close to her as his worry was still at its peak. Because she often tried to resist his help, even when she needed it, he had a fear in the back of his mind that her stubbornness would still win over somehow. He didn't like making her do things she didn't want to do, but he was still prepared to insist if she tried to resist somehow.
And though her smile had faded and her expression seemed unsure, he was relieved when, instead of removing the blanket, she folded her arms underneath it, grasping it with her hands to hold it closer to her.
And as they both stood there, watching each other silently in the slowly darkening room, he suddenly realized how forward he'd been with his actions. His worry at seeing her try to pretend she hadn't just been through an extended trip in freezing cold weather was so strong that it removed his normal hesitation. Because he'd been thinking of nothing but getting her warm so she wouldn't catch a cold, it took him until now to realize that he'd just dragged her into his apartment and covered her with a blanket without asking her first. He clenched his jaw nervously, his eyes widening as his hammering heart quickly increased to a flutter. His actions had surely taken her off guard, and he could only imagine what she was thinking right now.
And yet, even though he had no idea what she was thinking right now, he still hadn't expected the words that left her lips when she finally spoke to him.
"I was going to say the same thing to you."
He blinked, watching her with confusion widening his eyes. "...Huh?" Because he was still surprised that she was here and still embarrassed by how forward he'd been with her, the meaning of what she said didn't sink in right away.
She didn't answer him right away, just standing there holding the blanket close to her, staring at him silently. He just stared back, not sure what to do. And that was when he noticed the look on her face. Even in the darkness of the room, he could see it clearly. It was the same worried expression she'd had when he first opened the door, the concern so deep that not even the softness of her eyes could hide it.
And when she answered him, it was in a soft voice, one so quiet that it was barely above a whisper. "How are you?"
He just stared at her, not sure what to say. It was rare for her to speak so quietly, and he didn't understand why she looked so upset. He couldn't imagine why she was asking him how he felt when she was clearly the one who wasn't okay. "I… I'm fine."
Her eyes softened even further, and the small frown in her brow deepened into a small, pained grimace. "No… you're not."
Then, as if something clicked inside his head, he finally understood. Everything that had happened since she arrived at the door suddenly made sense. The reason she was here, the reason she'd come here unannounced… was because she was worried about him.
After the trial, after her exoneration restored his faith in her and he apologized for doubting her, they immediately went back to the way they were before. Her proven innocence made them both feel so freed that it was like there had been nothing keeping them apart in the first place. And because of that, she must have thought that everything was fine. Because it was fine. At least, it was until he got home that night and the reality of what he'd done started to crush him. The pain of the loss and the guilt in what he'd done to her hit him at the same time, and he started to drown in the sorrow. But she didn't know that. To her, everything was back to normal between them. Which was why she was certainly surprised when he refused to answer her calls yesterday.
But he hadn't answered her for a reason. He knew she was calling because she wanted to offer her help to him, to be there for him and console him over his friend's death. But he ignored her. Because he knew he couldn't confide in her. Not for this. Even if she was reaching out to him willingly because she cared about him, how could he let her console him over his friend's death after he'd so cruelly accused her of his murder? It would be wrong. It would be selfish. Even if this experience had taught him that he could count on her for anything, he couldn't count on her for this. He had to carry this on his own.
He swallowed, clenching his hands into fists as the lidded emotions inside him threatened to spill. He just watched her as she stood there, watching him with concern so deep that she looked like she was in pain. And he wouldn't let her do that to herself. This was not her battle to fight, and it never was. He wouldn't let her suffer with him. She didn't deserve to go through any more pain, and he didn't deserve her concern. He would continue to reject her help, knowing that grieving on his own was the right thing to do. Not just for him, but for both of them.
"Just stay there and get warm," he started, "I'll go get dressed and take you home." Without saying anything else, he walked passed her towards his bedroom so he could get dressed.
But right as he passed her, he felt her hand suddenly grasp his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.
He turned around and looked at her. She was just standing there, still holding his wrist and watching him with the same deep concern on her face. He didn't even need to ask her what she was doing. She knew he was trying to avoid her help, and she was trying to stop him. But he wouldn't relent. He wasn't going to count on her for this. There was no reason for her to suffer with him, so he wasn't going to give in.
He turned all the way around, looking her in the eyes as she still refused to let him go. "You don't have to do this." Even though she was trying to insist that he let her help him, he was going to make it clear that he wasn't going to accept her help.
Her brow furrowed as if she didn't understand. "What do you mean?" Her voice was still quiet, but it was a bit closer to her normal volume than it had been before.
He didn't know if she was pretending she didn't know what he was talking about to spare his feelings or if she really didn't understand. Either way, he would explain to make sure she did understand. "You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't even be talking to me. Not after what… I…" He trailed off as the memory of his accusations stung his chest, making it hard to breathe so he could suddenly no longer speak.
She just kept watching him, her expression unchanging. After a few silent moments, she finally answered him. "You can't keep punishing yourself for that. You did the right thing."
He clenched his teeth against a grimace, his heart pounding so hard that it hurt his chest. "It was wrong," he said, his voice straining against the pain. "I was wrong. I shouldn't have doubted you at all. How could I think you would ever…" He swallowed, his voice trailing off again as the pain in his chest suddenly felt like a thousand needles. He didn't understand. How could she forgive him so easily? How could she take such an act of betrayal and put it behind her like it never happened at all? He didn't understand. Why was it her standing here trying to console him when it should be him spending the rest of his life making up for what he'd done?
Then, as if she'd heard his inner turmoil, she gave him an answer that had never occurred to him before.
"What if it had been me?"
He blinked, watching her with wide eyes as what she said confused him. "Huh?"
"What if I was the one who doubted you?" she started. Her expression was still full of concern and her voice was still low, as if she was afraid to speak too loudly. "Would you want me to hate myself for suspecting you?"
His eyes widened even further. "No! No, of course not!" he said desperately, using a louder voice than he'd meant to. The idea of her feeling guilty over something like that made no sense to him. She wouldn't have had a choice, so how could he ever fault her for it? "How could I blame you for doing the right thing?"
Her eyes softened, and her voice lowered to just above a whisper. "...Then why can't you do the same for yourself?"
He just stared at her as the realization of her words dawned on him. She was right. If their roles were reversed, if there had been evidence against him, he never would have blamed her for investigating his possible guilt. How could he? After all, the truth would never be found if every possibility wasn't considered. He never would have expected her to bury the truth just so she didn't have to face the idea that he might be guilty.
But, even if he accepted that, the reality of what he'd done remained the same. Even if he forgave himself for accusing her when he didn't have a choice, the fact still remained that he'd accused her of murder. Even if he didn't want to carry the pain of the loss on his own, even if he wanted to lean on her for comfort, he still couldn't do it. No matter which way he looked at it, letting her console him over the loss of his friend after he accused her of his murder was wrong.
As if she somehow knew that he was still planning to resist her help, she suddenly spoke to him in the same quiet voice again.
"The case is over, Apollo. You don't have to be brave anymore."
As he watched her stand there, watching him with more concern than he'd ever seen in her before, he felt his resolve start to slip. But he held strong. He wouldn't count on her for this. He would make it passed this by himself. By now, he was used to carrying pain on his own. Without anyone to lean on as he was growing up, he'd learned to deal with things on his own. He would get passed it, just as he always had.
"It's fine," he started. "I can do it by mys-"
Then, before he knew what was happening, she took a step towards him and closed the distance between them. The blanket slipped from her shoulders and fell to the floor as she raised her arms and wrapped them around his shoulders, pulling him close to her in a comforting hug. And he just stood there, too stunned to move.
"Don't," she started. His heart lurched when he heard the strain in her voice, like she was trying to hold back tears. She rested her chin on his shoulder and pressed the side of her face against his ear. "Don't do this to yourself. Don't carry the pain by yourself." She pulled him closer, as if she was trying to make sure he wouldn't try to move away. "It isn't worth it."
And that was when his resolve faded away. Her comforting touch, the way she held him in her arms… it was like she was shielding him from the pain, holding him on his feet because she knew he couldn't stand on his own. He'd never wanted to carry the pain on his own. He only tried because he thought he didn't have a choice. But here she was, holding him and letting him know that he wasn't alone.
He'd known all along that he couldn't do this alone. In the past few days that he was alone, he hadn't been dealing with the loss at all. He simply let the lid over his emotions remain closed, still too afraid to face the pain. Even when he knew that he would never move forward until he let himself grieve, he wouldn't do it. He hated to admit it, but he knew he wasn't strong enough. If he tried to grieve alone, he knew he would drown. So, in order to protect himself, he kept the lid closed.
But with Athena here, the one person that meant more to him than anyone else in the world, he suddenly felt like he'd been given the lifeline he'd been missing. With her there, she was acting as his strength, the strength that he didn't have in himself. It was something that only she could be, a power that only she could give him, and he would never move passed where he was now without her. With her holding him in the safety of her arms, he knew he was now free to finally start letting go.
The lid over his emotions suddenly fell away, and a painful fire spread across his chest as the emotions overwhelmed him. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, holding onto her like she was the only lifeline that was keeping him from drowning when the emotions he'd kept bottled up for so long finally spilled over. He buried his face in her shoulder, his chest shaking as tears stung his eyes. His heart pounded and he took in a sharp breath, tightening his hold on her as if he feared he would drown if she let him go. And she held him closer, like she wanted to let him know that she was there, and that she wouldn't let go.
And as he stood there, being held in the safety of her arms, he finally let himself grieve.
Chapter Timeline: Two days after 'Turnabout for Tomorrow'
Chapter Songs:
Athena: 'My Arms' – Ledger
Apollo: 'Sunrise' – Our Last Night