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It's been eleven months, almost a whole year, and Andy is still struggling. She has gotten comfortable with Hector and his family, in fact she loves them more than she could have ever imagined loving anyone - but it's hard.
She still dreams about it, Apollo coming into her room at night to steal her away, that terrible smile on his face. No matter where she goes in her dreams, he follows her everywhere: anywhere in the house, the beach, school, work. She is never safe. Sometimes she doesn't dream for weeks, sometimes she's kept awake for days, seeing the images behind her eyes every time she closes them. She asks Cassandra if it is possible that Apollo cursed her with those dreams, punishing her for her escape. The sybil looks at her with pity in her eyes. She says she doesn't know for sure but she doubts it. Some curses don't manifest as an oath. Apollo has already cursed her by his deeds against her alone, he doesn't need to do any more to ruin her.
Andy is afraid of always bearing this mark. It's not fair, not fair to her and not fair to Hector, who loves her so much despite all the hardships, who looks at her with more love in his eyes than she knows what to do with. She knows she loves him and he knows she loves him, but that doesn't keep her from still wearing a shirt over her bathing suit every time they go swimming, scared she'll see the same desire in his eyes as she has in the eyes of dozens of men - and women - before and she'll lose him. She knows she wouldn't. He would never do anything to hurt her but she can't bring herself to change her habits, not when the wounds are still so fresh.
She's comfortable kissing and hugging him as much as he wants, as much as she wants, even in front of other people, even in front of people that aren't their friends and family.
She feels safe around him in a way she never has before but still can't stand being in closed off spaces. Even when they're alone in his room she needs the door to be open so she can run if she has to. She never does. She trusts him. But old habits die hard.
Sometimes, just being touched is too much, but she know she can't reasonably ask Hector to not touch her at all. Most times, she does want to be close to him, it's only sometimes when he holds on a little too tight, pulls her a little too close to him, when she can feel his warmth a little too much that it gets hard to breathe.
She tries so hard, apologizes time and time again when she flinches away from him, wakes with a start, struggling to get away, has a panic attack whilst they are just cuddling. She knows it hurts him to see her like this, knows she hurts him by pushing him away time and time again, and she cries against his chest telling him how sorry she is for being such a wreck. Of course he was never upset with her in the first place. They both cry, her for the fear and pain she's had to endure, him for sharing her pain and the helplessness he feels facing it.
Some days it's completely fine, and they will cuddle up in bed and just lay with each other, Hector drawing little doodles on her back with his fingers. She snuggles up to him, and at some point they will start kissing and he will whisper to her, tell her how beautiful she is, how strong, how much he loves her. She will pull him closer, straddle him and kiss him deeper, let herself get lost in the sensation. She'll tug at his soft curls and listen as an equally soft moan escapes his lips and he drops his head to nip at her neck. That feels good, she likes that. He likes it too, he tells her as much. She can feel his enthusiastic reaction against her body. It used to throw her off but she has started to enjoy knowing no matter how broken she might feel, she can still do this.
Every once and again she experiments with it, explores his body with her hands, grinds down against his erection She can never be sure how long she'll last. Sometimes she panics immediately, other times the anxiety creeps in gradually until it becomes too much to ignore and they have to stop. It makes her feel terrible how much he has to comfort her each time. Selfish. Andy thinks she'll never get over it. They can try, try, try however much they want but they'll fail each time and Hector will get tired eventually of getting put in this situation.
He has feelings too, and they get hurt every time this happens. Of course in the rational part of his brain he knows that her flashbacks have nothing to do with him or with what he does; any random thing can trigger them. Doesn't mean it doesn't upset him to see his girlfriend in this state. He tells her he doesn't know what's worse: it happening when it's just the two of them and he has to wonder if he was the one causing her pain or her having an episode when he's not there to comfort her. He feels terribly guilty either way. Sometimes that's the only thing that makes her get her shit together, seeing how it hurts him. She doesn't want to hurt him, ever. Hector says they should really stop being so codependent on each other, but they both know they can't. He is the only one she feels safe with, and she is the only one who doesn't expect anything from him, the hero, the perfect one, the best of them all.
She is the only one he tells about what it felt like to die, to be dead. He can barely bring himself to say the words, only whispering to her in the night when everyone else is sleeping, and she holds him when he's shaking, trying to hold back and quiet his sobs so they don't wake anyone. He describes the pain, the numbness, and the sudden relief. He confides in her, tells her he thinks he might have seen his mother's face for a few precious seconds before he was brought back. And he tells her of the devastation he felt at it, and that short, terrible moment of dreading being alive again, being forced to keep going, to do it all again. He would never admit to those things in front of his family, how could he? But she is there, in the middle of the night, holding him close, kissing his tears away, kissing his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids, his brows, his temples, his chin, his lips - every square inch of his warm skin, and she will hold him until he falls asleep, until morning comes, and Apollo does not bring the sun, they do. This light is theirs alone. They love each other and they're trying. It is enough. It has to be.