Work Text:
January 2032
“Can’t believe they’re gonna just…close it down,” Apollo says, voice hoarse and hollow-sounding in contrast to the wealth of emotions Athena hears in it. “You lived here. Clay’s memorial is here. Just doesn’t seem right.”
“No, it doesn’t.” It’ll be a while before the actual demotion happens, she knows, but there are already crews here to move out museum items and specialized equipment. It’s all being sent off to a new national site. “Do you think,” she asks, then hesitates, shaking her head and chewing her lip.
“What?”
“Do you think they’ll put the personal items on display, too? The stuff about…about Clay, and…my mom’s things? Aura’s models?”
“Maybe. Maybe they’ll just hang out in some storage unit and gather dust,” Apollo muses, and her heart aches to hear how much it costs him to consider that possibility.
“I don’t really know which is worse,” she sighs, kicking her legs. Mom had always told her not to climb the half-wall she’s sitting on, but this might be her last chance to do it. Besides, it used to be taller than her. Now her feet are only a few inches off the ground.
“Me either.” Apollo sounds so miserable, but she’s never figured out how to help him. It’s only gotten harder since he’s been gone.
“I’m glad you came back. To see it one more time.”
“Not sure if I am,” he says, shoulders tensing. “It’s harder than I thought it’d be. I thought, since we left it on a good note, with Sol’s launch, it might be easier.”
“I thought so too. Guess that’s what we get for hoping.” Athena plants her hands on the wall to either side of her, worrying her lip again as she tries to decide if she should keep the conversation going.
There’s a flash of black and white in her periphery, and it’s almost enough to startle her into jumping down. She keeps her seat, just barely, but all the fortitude she had left abandons her when Simon notices them and heads their way.
“Simon,” she says, eyes suddenly full of tears, voice as high as it was when she was still a kid small enough for him to lift onto the wall when Mom and Aura weren’t looking. “I thought…”
“I said I didn’t want to come,” he says matter-of-factly. “Not that I wouldn’t.”
He steps just a little closer, and Athena breaks, leaning down to slide her arms around his neck and crying into the crook of his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her in return.
She only sobs harder when he murmurs, “You know you aren’t to climb up there, Cykes-dono.” He hasn’t called her that in so long, and she can hear in his voice that the formality of it is the only barrier between him and his own conflicted feelings.
He tries to lower her from the wall, but Athena doesn't feel ready to stand on her own two feet, so she clings tighter instead, legs clamping around his hips. It's the same way he'd held her when he'd carried her away from that awful scene all those years ago, the same way he used to cart her around when she was even smaller, too small to match his pace on long walks.
He chuckles against her ear, low, soothing, rich with memory despite the way his voice and accent have changed with time. "I think you're a bit too big now to be clinging like a koala."
"I guess," she whispers back. It's selfish, but she almost wishes he hadn't said anything. Even his rate of speech is different. He used to speak to her slowly, back then. For a moment or two, she'd almost been able to pretend she was seven again, holding on tight to try to keep Simon from leaving for his new semester at school. Athena eases her legs down, standing shakily at first but nodding soon enough.
Simon steps back at her signal and turns to Apollo, extending his hand.
Apollo shakes it firmly, almost dispassionately. That's probably just because he's trying so hard not to feel anything, if Athena had to guess. He and Simon never had time to become friends, exactly, but they've always gotten along well enough. Well, as well as anyone gets along with Simon, that is.
"I'm supposed to tell you that the offer's still on the table," Apollo rasps.
"Noted," Simon says simply, and then he joins Apollo in leaning against the wall. It must be a really complicated offer, whatever it is; in a single word, Simon had given off so many tiny variations of emotion. She makes a note to ask later.
Even as overwhelmed as she is, Athena can't help but giggle at the height difference between the two of them, now that they're lined up together.
They both look at her, equally unamused, but an advancing rumble cuts the air before she can speak up for herself.
A motorcycle with two riders rounds the corner and comes to a halt near the gate, well outside of any designated parking zones.
The figure in front takes off his helmet, revealing himself to be Prosecutor Gavin, as Athena expected. The rider on the back seems to be having a little trouble with dismounting, but eventually manages to get both feet on the ground. Athena knows who she is already, of course, would know the shape of her anywhere, but it's still something of a shock to see Junie's face emerge from beneath the protective headgear. Even more surprising is the wide grin on her face.
"I told you it would be fun, ja?" Athena hears Klavier ask once the engine is cut.
"I'll never doubt you again, Prosecutor Gavin."
"Ach, no, please hold onto your doubt. You'll need it in a few months, when I am charming you toward an incorrect guilty verdict."
Helmets under their arms, the pair of newcomers make their way to the patch of wall Athena and Apollo have claimed.
"Junie," she sighs, almost involuntarily, as she steps forward to catch her up in a hug.
"Hi. Doing all right?"
"Yeah. More or less." It's not even a lie anymore, Athena realizes. Having everyone here helps.
"Good." Junie steps back, sniffing a little. "Hi, Simon."
"Hello," he responds, looking shiftily away. One day, he'll stop being so weird around Junie. He'll have to, because neither of them will be going anywhere if Athena has anything to say about it.
Klavier and Apollo are still embracing when she spares them a glance, and she looks away again quickly. As far as she knows, it's been a long time since either of them felt able to accept an olive branch from the other. They're always trying too hard at all the wrong times, and it's been painful to watch. Today might be tragic in the grand scheme of things, but seeing them reconnect gives Athena hope that some good may yet come out of it.
She turns her attention back to Junie, deciding to give everyone else their privacy. "I'm glad you're here, but… how?"
"Prosecutor Gavin and I both had the idea to wait at the office for you guys to come back." She smiles. "I wasn't too sure about carpooling, but… he's pretty charismatic."
"Mm, ja, I've talked many a lady into a ride on my hog, but never one quite so beautiful," Klavier says with a wink, apparently having decided not to give anyone else any privacy.
"You got that right," Athena agrees emphatically, grinning when Junie turns pink under the attention.
"Alas, still no luck convincing my favorite man." Klavier sighs deeply, and though it's intentionally over-the-top, his feelings about Apollo are as much on his sleeve as ever.
"I'm not getting on your bike." Apollo's well-worn protest sounds less forceful than usual. "You, uh. You were waiting for me?"
"I wouldn't miss a chance to see you, Apollo. No matter what."
Apollo's next exhale and subsequent inhale are some of the shakiest she's ever heard from him, like he's gearing up for something. "I think. I think I've seen what I needed to see here."
"Apollo?"
"Will you take me by his old place?"
"Anywhere you like," Klavier responds solemnly. "You need only point the way."
"OK. OK, let's… let's go. Before I have time to change my mind." Apollo turns on his heel and leaves the little courtyard without so much as a wave goodbye.
"Ah… Ms. Woods, if I may?" Klavier asks, sounding every bit as stunned as Athena feels as he holds out his hand for the helmet she'd borrowed.
"Oh! Of course." She hands it over. "Thena will get me home from here. Thanks for the ride!"
Klavier leans in to kiss Junie's cheek before leaving to join Apollo. "We'll do it again sometime. You have my word."
This means that when Junie turns back to look at Athena again, her cheeks are such a bright shade of red that Athena would think she had a fever if she didn't know better.
Simon makes a disgruntled noise, drawing Athena's attention to him before she gets a chance to tease Junie. "Prosecutor Gavin is a menace to society," he explains.
"Uh-huh," Athena says slowly. She and Junie look at each other and start to giggle, and she decides not to call Simon out about it when she sees him crack a smile, too.
It only takes one shout from the moving crew several yards away to sober them all again.
Athena heads back to the wall, tugging Junie along by the hand. She tucks herself tightly in between Simon and Junie, leaning her head to the side until it's nestled against Junie's coarse, sweet-smelling hair. "You know," she says, "you sort of grew up here too. Sorry I didn't bring you along."
"Oh! No, it's OK. Besides, I think it worked out best for everybody this way. It's pretty sad, though. Or maybe… bittersweet."
"I fail to see anything sweet," Simon argues.
"I guess what I mean is," Junie starts, pausing before she says, "a lot of really bad things happened here. They won't be able to anymore."
"Ah, but on balance, a great many more good things happened here. There will be no more of those, either," Simon points out.
They're both right, but Athena can't help but think about the way that they carry all those things with them, good and bad alike. "It's just a building, right?" she asks no one in particular. "Just stuff." Even as she says it, her hand comes up to toy with the earring from her mom. Technically it's also just stuff, but…
"Stuff matters sometimes," Junie says, shrugging a shoulder. "I think that's OK."
"Yeah, I think so, too." She falls quiet again, watching for a little while longer. She almost feels like they should be watching it burn. A dramatic ending to a haunted old house, all its survivors looking on as they finally conquer it.
Haunted or not, though, it was her home. And not all of the survivors are here, anyway.
"Does Aura know?" she asks, hesitant to speak her name. Simon and Aura's relationship these days is unpredictable at best.
Simon doesn't answer, which could mean anything at all.
Athena shifts her weight to the other foot, leaning against his shoulder instead and reaching down to grasp Junie's hand.
"I told her. I asked if she wanted special dispensation to see it, and…" Simon trails off, crossing his arms without jostling Athena too much. "She said it could burn for all she cares." He didn't believe her, though, Athena can tell.
She thinks his judgment might be wrong in this case. Aura has always woman of extremes, and besides, Athena's romanticization of fire didn't come from nowhere. "I should really go see her," she says. "It's been a few months."
Simon stiffens sharply. "Don't," he warns. "Not for a while."
Athena frowns, leaning against Simon more heavily. If he's being that frank about it, she must have really been in a bad way. "OK. But not too long."
[I miss her], Widget announces, and Athena and Simon both flinch.
"Maybe it's time to go," Junie suggests, sounding worried. She's been around them both enough times when the conversation turns toward Aura, and she must know by now that it's almost never pretty. She also knows by now that Athena hates getting upset with Simon. Besides, it's starting to get chilly, and Athena can hear Junie's breaths take on the faintest rattle.
"Yeah, you're probably right," she agrees. "Si, you want a ride?"
For a long moment, she thinks he'll refuse, that he's not ready to walk away, but he surprises her. "If it's a ride to dinner."
She grins. "Dinner it is! Hope you're in the mood for Whet Soba, Junie!" she says, stepping away from the wall to lead them both to the car.
Junie turns faintly green, but she follows bravely along in the wake of Simon's laughter.
They pile into Athena's little yellow car, and none of them look back as they drive away.