Chapter Four
I said nothing in my defense. What was the point of lying? He'd found out-- somehow. I was curious, though, I didn't ask. I stood there in silence as Hannibal glared at me, eyes snapping fire. Akin looked... incredibly disappointed, and for some reason, that bothered me. Why should it? I didn't give a shit what Akin thought of me.
"Menoetius, what's he talking about?" Akin asked me sternly. I did what I did best and put on a blank expression.
"Exactly what it sounds like," I replied. Akin's brows knitted together in a disbelieving frown, his lips pursing into a tight line. Hannibal clenched his fists and moved for me again, but Akin caught him and pulled him back, placing a hand on his chest.
"Baby, calm down and let him explain himself," he said gently. Hannibal growled low in his throat, reminding me of the angry animal all those years ago I'd been forced to chain to a post, the one I'd had to force into a high that left him dazed for hours.
"What's there to explain," I said, making Akin frown at me, "It's exactly like he's said. I've been systematically killing a bunch of worthless pieces of shit. So what? You want me to apologize or beg for your forgiveness? Fuck you, hybrid." Hannibal snarled and shoved me into the wall again. He slugged me in the face before Akin had managed to pull him back with a surprising amount of strength. Hannibal breathed hard, eyes flashing to red, then back again.
Gods, do it again. Hit me, asshole.
I am really sick.
I laughed at that, reaching up to wipe the blood from my lips before I pushed off the wall.
"Menoetius, why?" Akin asked. I stared at him.
Why? Because no one else was doing it. Because you let those bastards go too. You never went after the people who hurt Hannibal. You never killed them for daring to touch someone who was precious to you. Because you never made it easier for Hannibal to sleep at night. Because it wasn't fair that I couldn't kill the person who did the same thing to me. Because, because, be-fucking-cause!
"Gods, you're stupid," I seethed, and Hannibal tensed, but when he tried to go at me again, Akin put a hand on his chest and faced me with a stern expression, "You stayed in a city where Hannibal was abused. You stayed friends with people who hurt him. You stand there and talk about how much you fucking adore him, but you never show it. Not really. You don't...!" I couldn't finish that sentence.
You don't love him like I do!
"Is that what this is about?" Akin asked. I couldn't read his expression. It was a combination of too many things for me to pinpoint an exact reaction. Though, Hannibal was an open book the way he glared bloody murder at me. I was mostly surprised he hadn't just blasted me into oblivion already. We all knew he had the power to do so, and yet he seemed to get more of a sick thrill out of kicking my ass-- not that I was complaining, considering I got my own sick thrill out of it.
"How did you find out?" I asked, instead of answering him. Hannibal narrowed his eyes.
"Kristoff," he said, making Akin's eyes widen as he turned to stare at him in shock, "I was going to pay your cell phone bill and I noticed he was the only one making repeated calls to you. I went and asked him what was going on." Fucking vampire. Should've known better than to trust a blood-sucking piece of shit to keep his damn mouth shut. Looks like he was out of a job now because there was no way I was going to call him about information Tiberius now. I was on my own.
"Kristoff was helping you? Menoetius, who exactly were you killing?" Akin asked in disbelief. I clenched my jaw, pursing my lips. Why should I tell him? He didn't really give a shit. If he had, he would've killed them all himself. Then again, why was I surprised Akin had let them go? He could pretend he was tough and badass, but in the end, he was just another pretty face with a big purse.
I waited to see if Hannibal was going to answer for me, but he didn't. Now he was just standing there, completely rigid. I could see a war going on in those mismatched eyes of his. He wasn't raging anymore, wasn't tearing things apart anymore. He seemed to be steadily realizing who exactly I'd been killing... and why.
"Akin, I need to talk to Menoetius." Alone. He didn't say it, but Akin caught on right away. He looked hesitant, studying me warily for a moment before he turned and gave Hannibal a kiss on the cheek, touching his chest one more time before he left to go upstairs. Once we were sure he was safe in his room, we stared at each other.
My heart ached looking at him. I hated him for that. I hated how he made my knees go weak, how he made my heart hurt, my mind go fuzzy, my body react in disgusting ways.
No, it didn't matter how many times I told myself to hate Hannibal. Even thousands of years later, I still couldn't bring myself to truly, honestly hate Hannibal. Because damn it all to fucking Tartarus, I loved him. And I truly, honestly hated myself for that. If I hadn't fallen in love with him, we wouldn't be here. I would've made Iapetus proud. I would've fought and died honorably in the Titanomachy, not on my back like a fucking whore. I would've suffered in Tartarus the way any Titan suffered.
"I never asked you to do that," Hannibal said at last. I tensed.
"You didn't have to," I replied. Hannibal clenched his teeth, his fists rolling into tight balls and I waited for him to hit me again, but he didn't. That pissed me off. He unrolled his fists, taking a deep breath. He reached up to wipe his hands up and down his face before he stepped away from me, like he was afraid he would hit me.
"Menoetius, killing them isn't going to change anything. I already know that," he said in a low voice. I tensed at that.
"Yes, it will," I seethed, "It'll be easier to sleep knowing that bastards aren't crawling around out there. It'll be easier to sleep knowing they won't do it again, that they won't hurt you or anyone else ever again." Hannibal glared at me. I could tell he wanted to argue with me, but how could he when I was telling the truth?
"Menoetius, it doesn't matter. Things aren't the same as they were back then. You can't just run around killing people out of vengeance and not expect anyone to do anything about it. Those... Those people have families and friends. People who will come after you for what you've done. People who are going to suffer now that they're gone." His rant infuriated me and I snarled at him, grabbing him and slamming him into the wall, jamming my arm across his throat. He didn't even flinch, just stared at me.
"Shut up," I shouted in his face, then pushed my arm harder against his throat, but he didn't even make a choking sound, just hissed through gritted teeth, "Don't fucking tell me they deserved to live! Who cares if they had families?! Their families should be grateful that I got rid of their burdens! And let them come for me, I'll kill them too!" Hannibal's nostrils flared and he shoved me back across the hall so I hit the wall and I lunged for him, but he caught me and threw me into a wall. I snarled and launched off it, swinging at him, but he ducked and caught my arm, twisting it sharply behind my back and slamming me up against a wall. Breathing hard, I felt him push his weight on me to keep me still.
And I was only further angered as a small part of me slackened under his grip, desperate for him to get closer. I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing hard.
Get off me! Stop touching me!
"Get off me!" I snarled.
"No," Hannibal snapped, then ground me against the wall tightly, his body a hot mass pushing me into the wall so my cheek was smashed against it, "Not until you call off your stupid rampage. What you're doing will change nothing. Quit trying to act like some vigilante when we both know the real reason you're doing this."
"And what's that?" I seethed.
"Don't make me say it," Hannibal returned. The disgust and anger behind his voice burned hotter than any brand Tartarus had given me. I couldn't stop a shudder of pain from going up my spine as I shut my eyes even tighter, clenching my teeth. That same disgust, that same anger, it was the same tone he used when Ares had told him the truth-- when Hannibal had discovered how I felt about him. It was the same disgust Iapetus had used when he backhanded me for loving my own brother. The same disgust Clymene used when she rejected me as her son for the same reason.
You're disgusting.
You're sick.
"Call it off, Menoetius," Hannibal repeated, more gently this time, but his vicious grip on my arm that was beginning to go numb said otherwise, "If you keep doing this, you will be caught. Hades will find out and we'll both go to Tartarus. If you... If you even give a fucking damn about me like you say you do, you will call it off now and forget about it."
Forget about it? How could I possibly forget about it when I was forced to relive it every single fucking night? How was I supposed to forget the look on Hannibal's face the moment he gave up on everything? How was I supposed to forget the pain on his face when he was violated for the entertainment of monsters? I'd given up my life, my dignity, just to avoid those things happening to Hannibal and they happened anyway. My death meant nothing.
And now that I finally had the chance to do something for Hannibal, he didn't want me to do it. How could he not want to see those bastards suffer? How could he sleep knowing they walked around freely, enjoying their lives? Every time I thought of Zeus, I screamed. I wanted to go to Olympus and kill him, slowly and painfully, just like he did to me. How could Hannibal not feel that?
"Why?" I seethed. Hannibal frowned.
"Because I've already been saved." His response made me go cold.
Because he has Akin.
Before Hannibal had met Akin, he was a cold, merciless killer. He was the monster that Iapetus unleashed on entire armies, the monster that would only stop rampaging when he was drunk or high. Now, Hannibal was... happy. He could sleep. He could walk around with so many scars and not flinch whenever someone saw them. He could genuinely smile. He could enjoy life the way I'd always wanted him to.
With Akin.
My wrists itched.
"Let go of me," I said through clenched teeth. Hannibal narrowed his eyes.
"Call it off."
"No."
"Menoetius, call it off," he repeated. I struggled against him to throw him off me, but he slammed me into the wall again and I gasped, screwing my eyes shut as my body betrayed me, aching and begging for him to do it again.
Gods, you're so fucking disgusting.
"Alright," I snarled, and Hannibal looked at me suspiciously, "I'll call it off! And then you can go on living knowing that one last asshole is out there hurting other people. Their deaths and their torture is on your head!" Hannibal flinched at that. He let go of me, stepping back. I pushed off the wall, keeping my back to him so he wouldn't see how shamefully my body had reacted to his abuse. I wiped the blood from my nose that had connected with the wall.
"Menoetius--"
"Fuck you, you filthy hybrid!" I snarled. Hannibal's expression shuttered and he went cold. I turned away from him and went to the guest room, slamming the door shut behind me. I pressed my back to the door, breathing hard as I looked down at the telltale bulge in my jeans. I shut my eyes and slammed the back of my head against the door repeatedly until I'd given myself a headache.
Damn it!
Goddamn it!
Hannibal was hurt. I hurt him again. It didn't matter what I did, what time period it was, in the end, I was always going to hurt Hannibal.
My wrists itched.
I pushed off the door, breathing hard as I yanked my jacket off and threw it on the bed, taking my shirt off as I went to the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind me. I turned the sink on and splashed my face with water, leaning over the sink, trying to catch my breath. My chest hurt. My knees still shook and my body still ached in places that churned the contents of my stomach. I shut my eyes, splashed my face again.
My wrists itched.
I looked up at the medicine cabinet over the sink, glaring at my reflection. I yanked the cabinet open and revealed the single bottle of pain pills inside. I glared at them, then snatched them off the shelf and shut the cabinet hard, but not hard enough to break the mirror. I unscrewed the top and dumped the contents into my palm; several pills and a small razor blade. I poured the pills back into the container and set it aside. I picked up the razor and rinsed it off. I paused, holding it up to the light, watching its sharp blade glint.
This time period had really improved on their equipment. The first time I'd begun this daily ritual, I'd been forced to use a dagger I'd pawned off a merchant in a conquered village. The dagger, while it had gotten the job done, wasn't sterile and my cuts had been left to fester with infection.
Nowadays, things such as this razor could be sterilized, making for a cleaner daily ritual.
I rolled up my shirt sleeve slowly, revealing inch by painful inch of scarred flesh. I could only imagine what Hades would have to say if he discovered I'd damaged the body he'd made for me.
Thanks, assholes, it's not like I spent rushed hours working on your body or anything. Ungrateful shit.
Yes. It would be wise to keep these scars out of Hades's line of sight. He'd probably happily add to these scars if he knew.
I laid the flat of the blade against my skin, sliding it along until I found a decent empty space to add another scar to my collection. I closed my eyes and tilted the razor's blade down into my skin, and a low groan started in my throat, but I forced it back as the painful burn of the razor bit into my flesh.
I still remembered the day I started this daily ritual. I'd only been twelve, but I was tired of getting kicked in the emotional balls and I needed something to help me keep control, something to keep me from going on a homicidal rampage. So I'd gone to a village in the mortal realm, using one of the expensive rings my father had given to me to signify my heritage to pawn for a dagger. While I had plenty of weapons at home I could've fallen back on, I didn't want to use a weapon for battle on myself. It somehow felt wrong... shameful even.
So I'd taken the dagger home and made my first cut, which had gone horribly wrong because I'd cut the wrong place, wrong depth, wrong everything. It resulted in a disgusting festering wound I'd had to lie to Iapetus about, claiming I'd accidentally cut myself cleaning my weapons. He later beat me for my clumsiness and forced me to clean his weapons as well.
Lazy fuck.
I took a deep breath, looking down with mild disappointment to see that the wounds had already healed, leaving behind a new set of scars. While the pain didn't last, it was enough to distract me from a rage that would've led me to destroy the entire complex. The last thing Hannibal needed was for me to ruin his new home. After all, I'd already ruined his life.
I cleaned the razor carefully, disinfected it, and returned it to the pill bottle that I placed back in the cabinet. I shut the medicine cabinet and started a hot bath, sliding into the water that smelled oddly similar to a rainy autumn afternoon, except maybe a bit sweeter. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back against the side of the tub, frowning.
I felt like I was forgetting something. For a moment, I thought it was to lock the bathroom door, but one glance at the door told me otherwise. So what could I possibly be forgetting?
It wasn't until I had gotten out and was drying my hair off when the doorbell rang and I heard Akin exclaim Arikos's name, making me stiffen.
Oh. Right. Dinner.
I was tempted to cancel, but then again, Akin had bought all of that stuff and I felt like an asshole cancelling on him when he was already here. I just wasn't in the mood to sit there and pretend to be civil. I sighed, frustrated and it only grew when I heard a knock on the bathroom door.
"Menoetius? Arikos is here," came Akin's quiet reminder. I frowned, then raked a hand through my wet hair.
"I'll be out in a minute," I replied. I waited until Akin was completely out of the guest room before I left the bathroom, drying off and changing into one of the outfits he'd picked out. One of the few pants that wasn't made of the jean material, but rather a soft leather, then the strange dual colored shirt that had been on the headless dummy. I toweled my hair as dry as I could get it, annoyed that I didn't have time to pull it back from my face, meaning the curls I hated so much were going to spring into my face.
Oh yeah, this day was just getting better and better.
I yanked on my black jacket and stepped out of the room. I noticed that Akin and Hannibal had vacated the hall, so it was only Arikos standing by the door, looking... surprisingly attractive. It wasn't that he wasn't attractive before; he was attractive in a very weird way, but now he looked less like a poster child for the occult and more like someone who blended in well with society here. His black hair was swept back from his face, well brushed, and he wore a pair of black jeans, a short sleeved button up shirt with a loose fitting tie, a thermal long sleeve beneath, and a long black coat.
Suddenly, I felt extremely inadequate. I hadn't even really straightened my clothes. Arikos had completely changed his looks.
"Sorry," I muttered, making Arikos look at me in surprise, "I wasn't... quite ready." Arikos smiled.
"You look ready to me," he replied. The way his eyes raked me from head to toe made me raise an eyebrow. What was that for? Though, his eyes paused on my face and I frowned.
"You get in a fight or something?" He asked, then pointed to his own jaw to indicate the bruising that was probably surfacing from Hannibal's beating. I touched the bruise self-consciously, suddenly not feeling so bad about having my hair curl around it to hide it.
"Yeah. A brick wall," I said. Arikos hummed skeptically, but he didn't pressure me.
"Good to go then?" He asked. I just nodded. I waited to see if Hannibal was going to show up and scream at me for leaving the house, but apparently Akin had talked to him, because he never showed up.
Arikos and I went to the elevator and rode it down to the lobby before stepping out into the cold night air. I didn't quite understand how it could be so dark here in the early evening. It'd also gotten much colder, but at least the sky was clearer now and the snow had stopped falling. I was momentarily distracted by how many stars sparkled in the sky overhead.
"Neat, huh?" Arikos asked, standing beside me and staring up at the sky. I blinked, then quickly looked away from the sky.
"Sorry."
"Why are you apologizing?"
"I don't know."
"It's alright," Arikos said with a smile, "I like to stop and look at the stars too. It's nice. So are you ready for dinner?" I nodded. Arikos brightened and led the way down the street.
"I think you're really gonna like this place," he said as we walked through the light crusting of snow that crunched beneath our boots, "I've only eaten there once and I'm giddy thinking about it again." I didn't know what to say to that, so I said nothing. Arikos glanced at me, then smiled and looked away as he put his hands in his coat pockets.
"I have this itching sensation that the brick wall you got in a fight with was named Hannibal. Would I be right in my assumption?" He asked. I frowned, didn't answer, and Arikos smirked.
"Figured," he said, taking my silence as confirmation, and I didn't bother to deny it, "Hannibal's been awfully uptight lately. Something must have happened after we left Olympus. He's super secretive about it and when I ask, he just says," he made his voice sound deeper so as to imitate Hannibal, quite badly actually, "It's none of your concern now, Arikos. I'll tell you when the time is right." I almost laughed at his horrible interpretation of Hannibal. But the wording was certainly very Hannibal-like.
"Psh," Arikos continued, shaking his head, "He'll definitely make a good king of Atlantis with that bossy ass attitude. I should tell Lea her kid's being an ass, see what she says about it." She probably wouldn't care, actually. She adored Hannibal. The woman coddled him every chance she had, but I didn't begrudge Hannibal for that. I didn't even really envy it actually. I'd learned a long time ago that even mothers could turn on their children fast enough to make their heads spin. Clymene had gone from hugging me and cuddling me to smashing my fingers in doors and pushing me out of her way should we be on the same path. Instead of chastising his wife for it, Iapetus had just laughed, called it cute, and it only encouraged her to do her worst.
If there was one thing that kept my parents together, their was their mutual hatred of Hannibal and I.
"Don't let him get to you, though," Arikos was saying when I tuned back in, "Hannibal's had a temper since I met him, and probably well before that. I think it's mostly Atlan's fault to be honest. You heard about how he cursed Hannibal, right?" I frowned at that.
"What?" I asked. Arikos hesitated for a moment, then continued.
"Hannibal is the Atlantean god of bloodlust and chaos. It's why his temper is so short and why he goes into full on freak out mode when he fights." That explained a lot, actually. It explained why he was unbeatable in battle, why he drank the blood of his enemies on the battlefield, why he couldn't be stopped unless subdued by drugs. Gods of bloodlust and chaos were extremely dangerous, and incredibly rare back there, probably damn near extinct now.
It churned my gut to think that that bastard Atlan had done that to Hannibal. Hannibal didn't like being violent, not from what I remembered. After his first rampage, he'd trembled so violently that his chains had shook and he'd gone into some sort of state of shock for almost two days before Iapetus forced him into another rampage. After that, Hannibal had fought Iapetus's attempts to force him into rampages. Unfortunately, it ended up happening every single time anyway to the point where Hannibal gave up on fighting them and accepted them with a sick relish that had scared even Iapetus.
"So Atlan's the one who did that to him," I said. Arikos nodded.
"Atlan's really fucked Hannibal over," he replied. I frowned at that. He certainly had, and from what I'd heard, he'd also royally screwed Arikos.
"He's done that to quite a few people, I've heard." Arikos's smile faltered.
"Yeah. He's really good at it."
"I'm sorry," I said with a frown, making Arikos look at me curiously, "I didn't mean to bring that up. I wasn't really thinking... that brick wall packed a punch." Arikos smiled again. His smile was nothing like Atlan's. Arikos's was sincere, and oddly attractive. His dimples were deep set and gave him a charming appearance... like a little prince.
"It's fine," he answered, "I don't mind. There's no point in pretending none of it happened, because it did, and it's why I am the way I am now."
"What? Crazy?" I asked without thinking. Instead of being offended, Arikos laughed.
"Hell yeah," he said, making me snort and he grinned, "I'm also happy. I have fun now. I can go out and do all the things I'd stopped dreaming about when I was little because I thought I'd never be able to do it. Now I am and I never know when I'll be captured again, so I'm going to enjoy my freedom while I still can, either before I die or before I'm enslaved again." That was a strange way of looking at it, but I suppose I couldn't understand it since the only thing I'd ever wanted I could never have.
"I wouldn't know," I said after a moment. Arikos raised an eyebrow.
"What? There's nothing you've ever dreamt of that you wanted to do?"
"I've never dreamt, aside from that one about the labyrinth."
"What about daydreams?"
"Day what?"
"Daydreams," Arikos repeated, and when I gave him a blank stare, he made a noise of dismay, "No daydreams either? Okay, let's brainstorm for a second. If there was anything in the world that you could do, right here, right now, what would it be?"
To die. I sure as hell wasn't going to say that outloud. Nothing was more of a mood killer than confessed suicidal dreams. However, I couldn't really think of anything. Aside from death, Hannibal... But that was obviously an unattainable dream. So I just frowned at Arikos, who looked at me expectantly until I couldn't take it anymore.
"I don't know," I said at last, "I seriously don't know."
"What about dancing? Have you ever danced?"
"I'm a soldier, not a dancer."
"You can be a badass and dance. One of Akin's brother-in-laws does."
"Well, good for him. I'm not a dancer."
"How about karaoke?"
"Who is that?"
"Not who," Arikos laughed, "What. Karaoke is singing that you do in a club or karaoke bar. You sing along with words on a screen with a bunch of people." I screwed my face up at that and it only made Arikos laugh more. That was a thing people actually did? Sing like a moron in front of other people? Nothing said ego crusher like that. So I shook my head and Arikos hummed thoughtfully.
"How about going to a movie theater?"
"I've never gone to the theater. My family wasn't big on it considering we were gods of wrath and misery," I said dryly. Arikos shrugged.
"Hm, okay, then how about shopping?" He suggested. I shuddered.
"I already experienced that this morning and I would rather not go again," I assured. Arikos grinned.
"Let me guess, Akin took you?"
"I'm assuming you've also experienced his addiction."
"Oh yeah," Arikos chuckled with a nod, "Akin's a shopaholic. Hannibal gets the full brunt of it too. Did you know he has like twenty-six collars? Half of them look the same too, but Akin insists they're all made of different high-class material from leather to diamond studded. It's crazy." I grimaced at that. Yet another thing I found distasteful about their relationship. Hannibal was always wearing a dog collar, as if Akin owned him like property, and when I had told Hannibal to take it off, he'd acted as if I'd told him to cut one of his limbs off. His refusal had been so adamant and angry that I'd never bothered telling him to do it again.
"That doesn't make sense to me," I said, making Arikos look at me, "Why does he wear the collar? He loathes slavery, yet he ties himself to Akin like that. That is not a relationship." Arikos smiled.
"It's sorta weird, huh? It takes some getting used to."
"I am not used to it and I never will be."
"You just have to try and look at it from Hannibal's point of view, not your own," Arikos advised, making me frown, "Hannibal's never felt like he belonged anywhere, like no one ever wanted him, no one would have the balls to claim him openly. Then this guy comes along and wants him to wear a collar that'll shout to the whole world that Hannibal is claimed, and the fact that the collars are really fancy are just a testament to how loved he is. That's how Hannibal sees it anyway." It still didn't make sense to me, though.
"But you don't need a collar to do that."
"True, but some people want to do that."
"I don't understand."
"I know," Arikos said with a nod, "It kinda weirded me out at first too. I know I definitely didn't like wearing the slave collar Atlan forced me to wear. I hated that thing and the moment he took it off for me to go do his bidding, I felt free for the first time. That's how I feel about it on a personal level. Of course, I guess I can see the sexual appeal of it. It'd be nice to pull on it sometimes. I've never been a fan of pulling on people's hair. It's quite painful." My skin crawled in disgust. I couldn't see anything sexual about wearing a collar, or having my hair pulled.
A chill crept through me and I tensed until my muscles hurt as I suddenly felt a memory of Zeus yanking at my hair permeate my brain. I slammed my eyes shut and went still on the street, making Arikos pull up short, looking at me in concern.
"Are you alright?" He asked. I swallowed hard at the lump in my throat and clenched my teeth together, digging my fingernails deep into my palms, wishing my fingernails were sharp enough to draw blood. I took a deep breath and the cold air burned my lungs enough to distract me from the images attempting to surface in my head.
"Yeah," I said at last, once I was sure my voice wouldn't waver, "Yeah, I was just trying to remember if I left the water running in the bathroom." Arikos studied me for a moment, like he was trying to see if I was lying or not before he smiled.
"I did the same thing with my oven the other day. It would suck if my apartment burnt down when I just got it, jeez," he said, shaking his head. I said nothing, just followed him in silence as he led the way down the street toward a small shop. It was quaint and cozy on the outside, made of brown bricks and a black door. I couldn't even begin to read the sign outside, but as soon as we entered, a strange sense of nostalgia swept over me.
The air was rich with the smell of olives and warm bread, the faintest hint of lemons. The sound of traditional Greek music whispered through the grape leaf decorations twined around latticework fencing that hung from the ceilings. It was dimly lit, but something about that made it incredibly cozy. On the other side of the restaurant, I heard a man yell "opa" and flames shot up from a pan in his hand, a stage was set up with instruments and a Greek temple backdrop.
"Whoa," I managed. Arikos smiled, eyeing me as he came to stand beside me.
"Thought you might like it. Come on, let's get a seat," he said, approaching a podium where a Greek nature demon stood scrolling through his phone before looking up with a smile.
"Good evening, gentlemen. Just two?" He asked. He spoke fluent Greek, and not the modern Greek either. He spoke ancient Greek. Arikos nodded to him and the demon inclined his head before taking a couple of menus and leading us to a secluded couple booth in the corner of the restaurant, and we passed several tables in which they were speaking ancient Greek-- and I understood every word of it right down to the woman who was trying to hush her crying child with a Greek lullaby and a man who was trying to woo a woman, who kept shaking her head at him, but secretly looked rather amused.
It was so surreal. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been in a place like this. While the place had its modern touches, there was still something so traditional and ancient about it. I'd always wanted to go to a place like this in the past, but Iapetus had refused. We'd spent months surviving on either food Clymene made us, or a soldier's diet which consisted of black soup, stale bread, and grapes-- the latter of which was a rare treat.
"And what can I get you to drink?" The waiter asked. Arikos hummed as he studied the menu, and I looked down expecting it to be in English-- it was not. A strange sense of delight rushed through me as I recognized everything on the menu, then looked up at the waiter.
"Wine, please," I paused, "That's diluted, right?" The waiter nodded.
"Absolutely, sir." Relieved, I nodded to assure him of my order. Arikos smiled, then looked at the waiter.
"Honey mead sounds good." The waiter took our orders and gave us a quick bow before heading to the kitchen that was hidden behind a row of false Doric columns. Arikos watched him go, then looked at me, almost smugly.
"So? Do you like it?" He asked. I stared at him.
"How did you find this place?" I asked, amazed. Arikos shrugged nonchalantly as he looked down at his menu.
"I was just wandering around and I recognized the sign said something about Traditional Greek, so I came inside and it definitely looked like your kind of place. They even follow some of the original recipes around your time."
"You happened upon it by chance?" I asked. Arikos surprised me when his cheeks tinted a light shade of pink.
"Okay, so maybe I was purposely looking for a place like this." His confession confused me.
"Why?" I asked. Arikos smiled warmly.
"Because you looked like you could use a pick-me-up and I really wanted to hang out with you, so I figured this was a good place to do it. I figured you'd be more talkative in a place that you felt comfortable in too," he admitted. I still didn't quite understand his meaning. Why would he want to spend time with me? Most people couldn't wait to get away from me. According to Hannibal, I was an asshole, and Akin just said I was very off-putting until "you got to know me". It was Akin's nice way of saying "yeah, you creep people out". It felt strange to have someone actually want to spend time with me, and even more so, go out of their way to find a place like this.
"That... thank you," I said after a moment. Arikos brightened.
"'Course. No problem. So, what did you do after breakfast today?"
"Akin dragged me on his shopping expedition and I once again felt like a child when my mother used to drag me to the agora."
"Haha," Arikos laughed, "Yeah. Bet you spent all day there and didn't even get to eat lunch then? You're probably starving. Good thing this is a food date and not a movie date. I don't think popcorn would fill you up." Definitely not. Though, Akin somehow managed to get full on the strange fluffy snack.
I shook my head and went back to studying the menu. Everything looked delicious. I hadn't seen an abundance of food I understood in a very long time. It was always in a different language or covered in strange foreign sauces.
"Do you miss ancient Greece?" Arikos asked suddenly. I blinked, then looked up with a frown.
Did I miss the Greece of my time? I couldn't remember a moment in my life where I wasn't trying to avoid getting my ass beat, and a time when I wasn't getting my ass beat already. Greece had also been in her infancy during my time. At that time, Athens had been a tiny village of farmers and now it was a major city. Unfortunately, Greece had never been very perfect. It was just familiar. I understood how things worked then. I understood the battle strategies handed down through centuries, understood the language, the culture, everything. Now, it was like Greece had become a different place.
They'd even abandoned their own gods in favor of a new one. They had no idea it was Apollo who lit their skies, Artemis who kept them safe at night, Demeter who kept their soil fertile and Persephone who gave them spring. The list went on, and yet their deeds went unthanked. I couldn't understand how they could continue to do things for Greece when Greece herself had abandoned them.
During the reign of the Titans, humans made sacrifices from their harvest, the best of the best. They worshiped us daily. We were as much a part of their lives as they were ours. It didn't make any sense to me.
And yet, when I looked back on my personal life... No. I missed nothing about Greece.
But I felt like telling Arikos that would make him regret picking out this restaurant and I didn't want for that to cross his mind. While I didn't miss the Greece of my time, I did miss being able to understand things. I missed being able to be independent. I was so tired of people ordering food for me, of buying things for me, treating me like I was a child.
"Sometimes," I answered Arikos at last, looking back down at my menu.
"Like what?" Arikos asked. I frowned. Why was he so interested? I looked at him to see what he was trying to do by asking me all these questions, but he seemed genuinely curious. Still, I couldn't push back the suspicion that came to me naturally when people conversed with me.
"The food for one," I said after a moment, watching him smile, "The familiarity of it. I don't like this modern world." Arikos raised an eyebrow.
"Why not? Isn't toilet paper a good invention?" He asked. I smirked at that.
"Okay, so toilet paper is a good invention, but vacuum cleaners confuse me. Talking boxes confuse me," I replied. Arikos smiled.
"Why? Vacuum cleaners are kind of useful. It keeps things clean."
"Yes, but if you want things clean, do it yourself."
"You are doing it yourself, though. You have to push that thing around everywhere."
"Not on the commercial I saw the other night. You put this little thing on the floor and hit a button and it just cleans everything for you."
"Oh," Arikos said, dragging the word out in understanding, "Yeah, those things are kind of creepy. I don't think I'd want one of those in my house. I prefer using one of the push cleaners. So what about the television bothers you?"
"I don't understand anything going on," I said dryly, "I don't understand the shows Akin watches, or even what the people on the commercials are saying. The only reason I knew what a vacuum cleaner even was came from the fact that Akin was watching with me. Otherwise, I'm clueless. And I've heard enough yelling in my life without having a box that does it to me too." Arikos smiled at that.
"So, if you don't like the television, what do you do for fun?" He asked. I frowned.
"What?" I asked, wondering if I'd heard him correctly. Arikos raised an eyebrow, leaning his elbows on the table.
"Fun, you know, stuff you do in your free time when nothing else is going on." His specification didn't really help. Fun? Free time?
"Nothing," I said, confused. Arikos frowned now. Shit, what did I say now?
"There has to be something you do when you're not fighting the Atlanteans with Hannibal and I. What did you do on Olympus while there weren't any attacks?" He asked. I tensed at that. On Olympus, I'd barricaded myself in the room Anexius had given me and stayed awake all night making sure Zeus didn't carry through on his promise to come see me during my stay. His words had terrified me until I puked and Ares had taken me aside to assure me Zeus was just toying with me. It didn't matter. I wasn't going to let my guard down while in the lair of my enemy. I'd paced all night long, and the only reprieve I'd been given was when Kristoff, apparently that was his name, would call me to inform me of the location of another one of Hannibal's attackers.
I would then leave, carry out the execution, then return.
And while staying with Akin and Hannibal... I went to the guest room and got drunk until I passed out. It was a good thing I wasn't mortal, otherwise, I could've very well poisoned myself by now.
"I did nothing," I answered Arikos at last. He studied me for a moment, curious.
"So, what about back when you were a god? What did you do during your free time then?"
"Trained."
"And?"
"Slept."
"Nothing else?"
"What else was I going to do," I asked dryly, "My father was a warlord and I lived with four other brothers, three of which were constantly trying to torment everyone, and one was constantly tormented. It's not like I had time to sit down and knit, Arikos." Arikos seemed to have difficulties letting that sink in. It made me wonder what the hell he did for entertainment when he was enslaved to Atlan.
"What about you? What did you do for entertainment?" I asked. Arikos perked up.
"Lots of things. I danced, I sang. Most of those were required of me, but I had fun with it. Of course, not all the sex was bad either," he admitted with a shrug. I tensed at that. What the hell was he talking about? How could it not have been bad?
I didn't get the chance to express that particular bewilderment as the waiter had returned to take our order. I wasn't as hungry as I had been when we arrived, but I didn't want to disappoint Arikos by not ordering, so I stuck with a light meal of olive soup, pita, and hummus. Arikos ordered a ridiculous amount of food before the waiter took our menus, bowed once more, and departed from the table. I watched him go before looking at Arikos, who was smiling at me again.
"Why do you keep doing that?" I asked uncomfortably. Arikos looked at me, confused.
"Doing what?" He asked.
"Smiling at me," I answered flatly, "It's unnerving."
"Because I never know when the next time is that someone's gonna do something to make me not smile," he said. Now that was strange logic. However, he seemed content with just constantly smiling, so I averted my eyes and scanned the restaurant again. So many conversations going on at once, and I could finally understand them. The gossip of a table of women at a large table in the center, a couple flirting in a back corner, children chattering like a flock of birds. It was so strange to find a pocket of my Greece right here in the middle of his modern wasteland.
"Menoetius, what's your favorite color?" Arikos asked abruptly. I blinked, then looked at him with a scowl.
"What?"
"Your favorite color," he repeated.
"Why?" I asked. Arikos shrugged, unwrapping his silverware from his napkin so he could lay the napkin out on the table, using his fingernail to scratch at the thin paper.
"I just want to know as much about you as I can," he replied. Now that made me extremely uncomfortable. I frowned.
"Why?" I asked. Arikos stopped fidgeting to look at me.
"Because I like you maybe? Jeez, you can be oblivious," he snorted. I tensed at that. What kind of game was he trying to play at? As if I wasn't suspicious enough before with his asking me to come out with him, I was even more suspicious now. He had an ulterior motive behind this. I had no idea what it was, but I was going to find out.
"I'm not oblivious," I said sharply, annoyed at that tiny jab. Quite the contrary. I noticed everything around me. Battle-honed paranoia made me suspicious and watchful of everything around me. Everything in this restaurant could be used as a weapon. Everyone in this restaurant could be an enemy, a threat. Life may be just peachy for Arikos, but he wasn't a soldier. He was...
I winced.
"I didn't mean it as an insult," Arikos said, making me frown, "I meant you don't really seem to pick up on all the hints I'm giving you."
"Hints about what?"
"Never mind. Let's just eat," he said at the same time the waiter appeared with our food. I frowned. I had no idea what Arikos was talking about. Hints? What kind of hints? What was he planning? What was he thinking? Yet another thing that aggravated me. I had great difficulties reading Arikos's movements, his reactions, him in general. He was a new kind of person and that made me uneasy.
Unfortunately, the smell of the food completely distracted me and I cursed myself for my tiny attention span as the bowl of soup was pushed in front of me, along with the rest of my meal. I was even more distracted after I'd begun to eat. It took everything I had not to groan at how good everything tasted. It was a huge relief to my stomach to not eat anything saturated in grease and fats. Something about this food felt so homemade and natural. It tasted like... familiarity.
"Like it?" Arikos asked. Why was he constantly asking for my approval? Why should it matter?
I just nodded and Arikos beamed.
We went on eating with Arikos throwing in as much conversation as he could. He eventually forced me into replying a few times, especially when he repeated a question I'd purposely been trying to avoid. His questions sounded so trivial to me too. He asked my favorite things, what my military uniform had looked like in the past, had I ever been to Atlantis, this and that. I had no idea why he was asking me all these things, and a few times I had to lie because I had no answer for him and I was tired of snapping at him.
I was too relieved to have some decent food in my stomach to care. And when the dessert menu was dropped off, I almost groaned when I saw my favorite dessert on the list.
"Honey cake," I told the waiter and he nodded, taking my order before leaving. Ariko smirked.
"Got a sweet tooth?"
"For honey," I replied, "I'm not a fan of Akin's coffee in the morning. He adds too much sweet cream and it hurts my teeth. Hades would kill me if I rotted his teeth out." Arikos laughed, then shook his head.
"I'm sure Hades gave you that body with the intention for you to use it the way you want to use it. I don't think he's going to ask for it back," he replied. I shrugged, taking a drink of my wine, relieved at the flavor that wasn't strong and heavy like the wines Hannibal and Akin kept in their fridge.
"Beware of Greeks bearing gifts," I told him. He raised an eyebrow.
"I had no idea you knew that saying. I thought that was invented after the war at Troy," he said. I laughed bitterly.
"Greeks haven't been trusted with gift giving for centuries before Troy. Of course, I learned my lesson after Atlas gave me a gift with a mutilated dog's head," I replied. Arikos stiffened.
"What?" He asked. I winced at that particularly bitter memory. At the time, I'd blamed Hannibal for it. Hannibal had been such an idiot as a child. He'd been so desperate for some kind of company that he'd brought a pup home that he found wandering the streets. He'd tried to hide the thing in his closet of a room, but eventually Atlas had found out and I still remembered when he banged on my bedroom door.
"Menoetius! Come look, the hybrid has a bitch!" I had been reading when Atlas interrupted me, so with great irritation, I'd rolled off my bed and went to the door to open it, only to have Atlas throw it open and nearly knock my head off. I glared at him.
"Stop coming into my room," I snarled at him, but Atlas rolled his eyes and gestured for me to follow him.
"Come look!" When I didn't make a move to follow, he snatched my wrist and dragged me behind him. We went out the back of the house and around it so we could get a good hiding place behind Clymene's rose bushes to spy on Hannibal, who had been seven at the time and sat on the ground behind his room with a small puppy in his arms. He pressed his cheek down on its head and it yipped softly, tilting its head to lick at his face. He closed his eyes and smiled, cradling the thing like it was the most precious thing in his life.
I clenched my teeth as I watched Hannibal finally find something he could love. A stupid childish part of me was jealous, but I was mostly relieved that Hannibal could finally be happy about something... Unfortunately, that relief was short lived when Atlas came out of his hiding spot.
"Mama! Mama! The hybrid has a dog!" He shouted. Hannibal jerked his head up, his eyes going wide with fear as he shot to his feet and backed up with the squirming puppy in his arms. Angry, I rushed up behind Atlas and shoved him, making him stumble and slam into the post where the laundry was hanging. Atlas shouted in pain, busting his nose on impact before he whipped around and shoved at me.
"Stupid jerk!" He grabbed the front of my shirt, but I knocked his arm off and shoved him back.
"Why do you have to be such an idiot," I demanded angrily, dodging him when he lunged for me, "Who cares if the hybrid has a dog? He was bound to find a mate sooner or later." Atlas actually stopped to laugh at that, much to my relief. I glanced past him to where Hannibal had been standing. He had vanished during our fight, taking the puppy with him. Relieved, I'd managed to distract Atlas long enough for him to forget all about the puppy... or so I thought.
A couple days later, there had been a box sitting on my bed, and I'd stupidly gone to it and opened it, and my stomach dropped when I saw the contents. My stomach had churned so hard that I'd gone outside to vomit. Standing up to wipe my mouth, I looked up to where Hannibal was sitting outside his little room, sobbing into his knees, his arms wrapped around them tightly, his whole body shaking. Frowning, I'd gone around to the inside of his shed and looked inside to find the rest of the dog sitting on Hannibal's bedroom floor.
Yeah.
Hannibal had stopped bringing animals home after that.
And I'd started locking my bedroom door.
"Jesus," Arikos breathed when I'd told him the story, "That's horrible. No wonder Hannibal flinches when he hears a dog bark." I grimaced. So Hannibal still remembered that too. Then again, it probably scarred him for life. He'd only been a child, both of us had. Atlas... well, Atlas had been born evil. There was no if, ands, or buts about it.
"Like I said," I replied, taking a bite of the honey cake that had arrived a minute ago, "Beware of Greeks bearing gifts. Chances are it's a dog head or a cobra."
"Please tell me you didn't actually find a cobra in a box," Arikos said, looking pale.
"No, but Hannibal found one in his bed once," I replied. Arikos shuddered and shook his head.
"Fuck, ew, no, ugh! I hate snakes."
"Which one? The actual snake or Atlas?"
"Both. Definitely both."
I wasn't sure what the story behind that was, but I decided not to press him for details.
We finished eating a short while later and left the restaurant. It was even colder outside, if that was possible. I immediately regretted not having worn that thick jacket Akin had bought me, and something told me he was going to tell me what he often told Hannibal, who had the same problem with not wanting to wear jackets.
"I told you so. Didn't I tell you you were going to freeze?" Akin reminded me of Clymene sometimes.
"I told you, Iapetus! You never listen to me. But that's just the problem with you men. Do first, think later."
Except Akin was nicer about it.
We walked through the streets that were coated with another layer of snow that crunched beneath our boots as we passed other couples or families on the streets. Bright lights lit up the streets now, trees casting eerie shadows, restaurants and businesses closing up for the night. I hadn't even realized how long we'd been in the restaurant. I'd lost track of time in there. I suddenly wanted to go back, even though I wasn't hungry anymore. If anything, I was contentedly full.
"That was fun," Arikos said as we drew near the apartment building, "We should do it again... Like, oh, I dunno, tomorrow morning at my shop? I have the day off and it'd be nice to spend it with you." I frowned at him curiously.
"Why?" I asked. Arikos rolled his eyes.
"There you go again with your whys. You remind me of a kid when you do that. But if you must know the truth, I love hanging out with you, even if we're not alone, but alone is better so I can get you all to myself," he explained. I scowled at him and Arikos just laughed.
"I love it when you do that. Your nose looks cute. Anyway, so tomorrow morning? How about it? I'll even make you one of those coffees you love." His offer was tempting. I did enjoy that coffee and it had thankfully kept me awake all day. Besides, it's not as if I had anything else to do. So I nodded and Arikos brightened.
"Great. Then I'll see you tomorrow morning, probably around eight?" He asked. I nodded again. Arikos smiled. I hadn't noticed until we stopped speaking that he'd gotten extremely close to me. I tensed at his nearness and the fact that he was just inches away from touching me. The moonlight made his silver eyes practically glow, and I suddenly realized how... attractive he looked. It was like looking down at a painting. His glowing eyes matched the glistening snow around us, and his black hair had fallen toward the center of his face, his lips parted ever so slightly.
Unfortunately, he was way too close.
And he seemed to realize it as he blinked, then stepped away and smiled.
"See you tomorrow, Menoetius," he said, giving me a small waver before he left me standing in front of the apartment. I watched him go curiously. What was that all about? I shook my head and turned to the door, then pulled up short when I realized there was no way for me to go inside. Hannibal had never given me a key to the building. His assumption was that I was always going to be with him or Akin, which had always been the case until tonight.
Rolling my eyes at that particular stupidity, I reached into my pocket to take out my cell phone to dial the apartment, because for the life of me I could not remember the damn room number to use the call box. However, the moment I had the phone in my palm, a terrifying chill went up my spine.
Someone's watching me.