Work Text:
SPACE LOG: DAY #27
Time: ???
Location: Space Pod — ???
Notes: Turned off most ship functions to save energy so I have no clue where I am and what time it is. Home is just about as small as my thumb from my view through the window and it's getting tinier and tinier as the days go by. Pod's been keeping up with low fuel supply but rations are beginning to deplete. Planning to land on Mars if the distress signals don't reach anywhere to grab supplies and maybe ask for fuel. Don't have any currency on me though, so I can only imagine how well that'll go. I don't remember Martians being particularly hospitable to us "Earthlings".
I'll sleep on it. See how I feel when I wake up. See if anyone notices the little ship floating aimlessly just above the Martian stratosphere and pray to whatever's at the end of the universe that they have an empty passenger seat.
-AJ
┅
Days in space don't ever feel like full days at all. That's the thing about floating in the void, there's no light to contrast the dark, just a stretch of black that goes on and on for eternity, and by extension, a long day that goes on and on for eternity.
But days in space aren't days at all. They're nights. You fly away from the sun far enough that its light doesn't ever feel like morning again. It's simply a close star, staring at you as if it's on the other side of a wide, wide universe. And the only thing you can do is miss its warmth touching your skin.
Apollo wakes to the pitch black once again with grime in his eyelids. He rubs them off roughly as he approaches the shipdeck, his mind a mostly-empty field of low expectations. He passes by the sack of potatoes that aren't much of a sack anymore and debates whether or not to begin skipping breakfast to conserve food. He isn't even awake enough to notice the blinking red light appearing in the corner of his screen, its usual loud beeping noise turned off to save energy.
Then, he sees it.
The smallest speck of dirt in the center of his front window becoming larger and larger as it approaches him. Static starts to sound from his shipdeck and he looks around to grab the radio he hasn't used in weeks since he gave up on catching anyone on the same frequency.
He breathes in.
"Hello?" he starts, "Do you copy? Hello?"
A pause and then.
"—py—sh—emis—ho—any—on board?"
"My name is Apollo Justice," he says quickly, "and I am a lone passenger in this pod," he begins to sound desperate, "Fuel's emptying, food's almost gone. Please, send help."
"Hel—is on th—stay pu—ollo."
The static never clears out until he receives instructions to park the pod in their ship, which turns out to be about five times larger than the one Apollo originally boarded before he had to use the emergency pod. It is a grand starship painted black and gold on its exterior, a proud engraving of its name on the far end of the ship reading, "S.S. Themis".
He's shaking the entire time he steers the ship into safety, body running on adrenaline as he watches the door close up behind him. He sits in his pod in silence for a few minutes, letting himself be deafened by the white noise of his own solace. The same white noise that was his only company for the last 27 days. And this was the last time he's ever going to hear it.
He gets out of his pod and immediately the gravity shifts.
His feet feel more planted on the ground, the air feels easier to breathe. His hand can't help but clutch his chest and feel his erratic heartbeat go, realising that all this time it'd been so hard to breathe.
"Do it slowly," someone says, "It'll take a while for you to get used to the air again."
What approaches him is a girl that doesn't seem too far away from Apollo's age. She has a white spacecrew uniform on and pink glasses on her head. In her hand is a clipboard and in her pocket is a small notebook.
Apollo swallows once he isn't hyperventilating, looking up at the girl bashfully as he lays his hand down.
"Thank you," he says. "Are you the captain?"
"That'd be my sister," she answers, "But she's currently trying to steer us back on course and back on schedule so she ordered me to check up on you. I'm Ema."
She offers a hand. Apollo takes it.
"Apollo," he says, "I'm… really sorry," he scratches the back of his head.
"Don't be," Ema shrugs, "Rescues are what makes the job interesting. Not that your misfortune is interesting. Though I have to say…," she walks past him, leaning forward to inspect his pod, "This is a very interesting escape pod."
"It was an emergency," Apollo shakes his head, "Something about multiple engine malfunctions. Couldn't land, couldn't turn back."
She turns back. "Do you have any contact with the rest of your ship?"
"It was a transportation ship, didn't know anyone. Captain didn't respond to my signals and no one was on the radio."
Ema takes out the small notebook in her pocket, writing down everything Apollo said.
"... and no one on the radio. Anything else?" she looks up.
Apollo shakes his head. "Nothing. Hey, are we gonna get back to Earth?"
Ema pockets her notebook. "After the end of the course we're scheduled to head straight back. No detours."
The relief floods Apollo almost instantly.
"Anyway, I'll lead you to your cabin in the meantime and report your situation to my sister. Afterwards, I'd imagine she'll try to figure out what happened to the rest of your ship."
Ema starts to lead the way, opening a door with her fingerprint and letting Apollo in.
Apollo takes one last look at his spacepod and then turns away.
"By the way," he starts, "Where is this ship headed?"
At that, Ema spins, smirking at Apollo with an unmistakable glint in her eye.
"Welcome aboard to the S.S. Themis," she declares, "Our destination? Saturn."
┅
The S.S. Themis seems to stretch on the longer Apollo finds his way through it. From his small space pod, it looked gigantic, but he figures that's what any ship would look like if they were coming to rescue him. Being inside it is a completely different story.
Ema had taken him to the northern wing, possibly smack dab in the heart of all the life of the starship. Cabins were small but livable. His seemed to be a double room considering the spare bed next to his. They'd run out of singles, not that Apollo would complain about having more space. After the cramped pod he'd been in for almost a month, this was heaven.
He tried settling in, getting some sleep, but then he looked out his window and saw the sun going farther and farther away. He couldn't even spot the Earth—it'd probably just look like speck of dirt. He just wanted to go home.
He walked out of his room with itchy feet, wanting to be anywhere but here, finding someplace he could clear his mind. A sky room maybe. One where he'd only see the stars and nothing else.
Instead he finds a girl with sunflowers in her hair.
"Oh!" she exclaims, looking up at Apollo with a blush, "I'm so sorry, I—"
"Juni? I told you not to let me out of your sight, you know how I can't find my way through these halls, they all look the same!"
Another girl comes into view. This time, she has orange hair. She's taller than Apollo, wearing what seems to be the starship's complimentary pyjamas.
"Oh," the orange-haired girl says as she approaches the two, scanning Apollo once until her jaw drops. "You're the lost boy!"
Apollo raises his eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"Thena," sunflower girl nudges her.
"The man adrift in space! The one in the space pod! Oh, it is so good to meet you! Not that it's good that you were adrift in space, obviously. But—oh, what was it like? Were you scared out of your mind? Were you recording? I'd record. I mean, if anyone found me passed out in a space pod, how would they know what happened to me?"
"Is that what they call me?" Apollo ignores the rest of what she said. "The lost boy?"
"That's what I call you," she says. "And you can call me Athena!"
"You can call me Apollo, actually," he says, turning to the other girl. "And you?"
"I'm Juniper," she nods, "We were actually about to go to the dining room. Would you like to join us?"
Apollo pulls back, "Uh—"
"That's a great idea!" Athena clasps her hands, "I have so many questions! And I bet you miss eating real food, huh?"
He couldn't even deny it. All he ate for the last two weeks was boiled potatoes.
"Sure," he decides, "Lead the way."
┅
“Dinner” ends up being Apollo, Athena, Juniper, and a man playing a guitar on the small stage in the middle of the dining room. It’s a pretty grand space, probably meant to house all of the passengers all at once but by the time they’d gotten here, most people already filtered out.
“Huh,” Athena tilts her head, “Is my Earth clock out of sync?”
She examines her little wristwatch and Juniper grabs her arm to do the same thing.
“I don’t think so,” she shakes her head, squinting her eyes, “Unless it’s broken?”
“What side of Earth did we set it on?” she takes her watch off, “I thought the entire ship was supposed to be in sync. It’s 6 P.M.”
“Actually it’s 6 A.M.”
Ema strides in the room, this time without her huge clipboard and only her notepad attached to the side of her belt. “A bit early for my taste but this guy here woke me up.”
She rests her elbow on Apollo’s shoulder, smirking as she looks down. He felt a sudden sense of ridicule.
“It’s breakfast?” Athena exclaims, turning to Juniper, “Juni, we pulled an all-nighter!”
“Well, there’s not much of a difference to day and night here, is there?” she says.
Apollo lets them go on their tangent. Although, if he’s honest, the plate of bacon and eggs is really beckoning him forward. If he wasn’t so socially self-conscious, he’d just slip away. Hell, they might not even notice him doing it.
He very nearly does it. But instead, his attention goes to the man on the guitar, seemingly unbothered by the commotion set by the four people that had just entered the room. He looks completely at ease, in a laid-back stance on top of an amp with his guitar on his lap playing a bunch of indistinct notes.
Then he plays a chord and then another and then another. And then he’s singing—a low, quiet yet full voice filling up the mostly empty room.
Apollo knows this song.
“He’s at it again,” Ema says in disgust, which Apollo can’t imagine why. The words are getting stuck in Apollo’s throat, but he knows he can’t just turn away from the man. “Singing even without an audience.”
“Gotta love that dedication,” Athena says, “Do you think he’s famous anywhere?”
“Not on Saturn,” Juniper shakes her head, “Venus, maybe?”
“He’s not famous,” Ema tells them, “But he’s known. Klavier Gavin, the space-travelling artist.”
Apollo turns to the Klavier, simply watching him as he continues to sing. His voice sounds melancholic, almost bitter. It gapes a hole in Apollo’s chest and makes his stomach feel heavy.
Then Apollo realises it isn’t the man that hollows his body, but it’s the music. It’s familiar music. One he knows all too well. One he hasn’t heard in a while ever since he ran away from Earth.
It’s his parents' music and it’s being played by a stranger.
“We should grab some food,” Athena says, rubbing her stomach. “Breakfast, dinner, whatever! I’m starving!”
Apollo’s all but pushed to the buffet, breaking his stare at the man in the middle of the room. But he can still hear his music—can feel it playing through the speakers. The thought never really escapes him even as he sits down on their table with a plate full of assorted food he’d all but mindlessly grabbed. He was too distracted to think.
Then the music stops, feedback sounds, and when their table turns to Klavier, he is standing up and walking down the stage, spotting their eyes on him and bowing.
Apollo turns away. He can’t tell if it’s better to hear the music or not.
“Guten abend,” Klavier says as he approaches them, “Room for one more on your table?”
┅
Apollo learns that this is Klavier’s third time on the way to Saturn, having just been to Venus. He doesn’t seem to stay in one place for very long, running around the solar system like it’s his playground.
“I go around playing my music,” Klavier tells them, “Even on the way there. I left Earth when I was fourteen and haven’t been there since.”
Apollo takes a sip of his orange juice. Strangely, it tastes even better here than on Earth even though he’s sure it’s artificial. Something in the sweetener, maybe.
“Juni’s never been home in ages either!” Athena tells them, “She went to college on Earth so it’s been a while since she’s been to Saturn. Now that we’ve graduated, we’re finally both going!”
“That’s a long way from home,” Ema comments, “What’d you study?”
“Interstellar law,” Juniper answers and Apollo almost spits his orange juice, “Though, I think I’ll be taking the bar at Saturn.”
“Juni’s gonna be a judge!” Athena exclaims, wrapping Juniper in her arms. “Serving justice throughout the galaxy!”
“I don’t think it works like that, Thena.”
“Oh, but you will!”
Apollo hides his laugh behind his glass. With how extremely uncomfortable he felt at the beginning of this evening (morning?), he found Athena and Juniper especially amusing. The pair just seemed so unlikely to get along and yet they pieced together so easily. It was like watching something unfold in nature, just falling into place perfectly with no precedent whatsoever. What a strange pair.
“I’ve only ever got off the ship for rest stops,” Ema quips, “My sister needs all the help she can get running this thing.”
Athena frowns. “Don’t you have any other family to go home to?”
That makes Klavier laugh and Apollo swears he can see Ema glare at him.
“Ema’s been on the ship since she was a baby,” Klavier informs them, “Literally. She was born on it.”
“You’re a starship baby?” Athena gasps, “I’ve only ever read about those!”
“You know each other?” Juniper asks, looking between Ema and Klavier.
“Unfortunately,” Ema sighs, “This guy has been on more of my trips than I can count. We run into each other pretty often.”
“Oh, don’t pretend you don’t enjoy my company,” Klavier teases, “At least, you can appreciate my music, ja?”
“I can respect your sheer, unrelenting stubbornness,” she tells him, “Anything else, I cannot stand.”
This time, Apollo does laugh out loud, and it gains the attention on most of the table. It makes Athena burst into laughter, too, and soon, Juniper. Even Klavier lets out a little chuckle but Ema just groans and takes another bite of her bacon.
“You’d all feel the same way after you’ve heard the same set five nights in a row!” Ema argues.
“So, you actually listen, fraulein?”
“Oh, shut up.”
Apollo pours himself another glass of orange juice. He’d felt a little overwhelmed talking to Athena and Juniper earlier after having virtually zero human contact for about a month. But this sure beats talking to a sack of potatoes over dinner just to keep his sanity. He’d forgotten just how nice it was to have other people around to talk to, even if he didn’t say much himself.
┅
He manages to break off from the group after a few minutes of frantically trying. It isn’t until Juniper pulls Athena into their room that he gets to say goodbye without awkwardly slipping away. But then he’s faced with a new problem: he has no idea where the bathroom is.
He should’ve asked Athena and Juniper when he had the chance. He should’ve gone when Ema excused herself earlier during dinner. He shouldn’t have drunk three glasses of orange juice and one glass of water to end the night/morning. Now he’s walking aimlessly through the identical corridors of S.S. Themis. Not all who wander are lost but, boy, is he lost right now.
“Apollo?”
He turns around and he finds Klavier there, walking up to him with his hands behind his back, “Lost again?”
“Yes,” Apollo replies embarrassingly, “Do you think you could point me to where the bathroom is?”
At this, Klavier grins amusedly, and Apollo’s about to zone out as he goes on to tease him, but instead Klavier smiles and says, “I’ll do you one better: let me take you there.”
Klavier just takes him by the arm before Apollo can protest. He tucks him close and drags him forward, smiling as if this is the most normal thing he could be doing now.
“So,” Klavier says, carrying on as if Apollo isn’t completely stiff in his hold, “What brought the lost boy to space in the first place?”
“What?” Apollo chuckles awkwardly, still debating whether or not he should try to pull away from Klavier.
“I realised we went around the room explaining why we were all here,” Klavier explains, “But we never asked you.”
He’s going at a snail’s pace and Apollo can’t even tell where he’s heading so he can just break off and tell him that he really has to go.
“Oh,” Apollo scratches the back of his head.
Truthfully, it was a bit childish. He’d all but forgotten about it, being isolated in space and everything. There really wasn’t one thing that led him here, no major life event that pushed him to cast everything aside and board the first starship to Mars. It was more like a feeling, or the absence of a feeling. Apollo had woken up to do his monotonous routine of going to his part-time job and law school. He’d get home to his family, to his parents and his sister. Then he’d be on his bed, lying awake still after hours, wondering if there’s something missing—wondering if there’s someplace else he could be.
Before he knew it, he was heading to a different planet and wishing he’d never left in the first place.
“Just… looking for something I guess,” he answers.
Klavier regards him for a moment before letting go of him.
“Fitting,” he says, “Have you found it?”
Apollo pauses, following Klavier until he stops.
“Honestly, I don’t know if I have,” Apollo answers, “I don’t think I’ve been paying attention enough to notice.”
That makes Klavier laugh, short and low. It leaves the ghost of a smile on Klavier’s face as he looks down on Apollo and it makes something in his chest clench.
“Well, get your head out of the clouds, Apollo,” Klavier tells him, “We’re far above them now.”
┅
SPACE LOG: DAY 43
Time: 16:28 (Earth Time UTC+9)
Location: S.S. Themis — Deimos' Orbit
Note: Hitched a ride on a passing transportation ship and met a few interesting folks. Not sure if I want to know what happened to my last ship, or if I should feel guilty for not wanting to. To be honest, I'm just happy to be out of the pod. A month in isolation does things to the psyche and I can't imagine they're any good.
Starship's en route to Saturn, miles and miles away from Earth, but it's my best shot at getting home. Might as well do a little sightseeing before I get there.
-AJ
┅
“How you doing, Apollo?”
Ema sticks her head inside his cabin before Apollo can answer her knock. Apollo’s only slightly disturbed by this, covering his chest even though he was fully clothed. He’ll remember to lock the door the next time.
“Fine,” he responds, putting his hands down. “What’s up?”
“Just asking. We’re about to enter Jupiter’s area of responsibility so you might be feeling spacesick from the lack of solar light,” she says.
“Well, I’m feeling fine so far,” he tells her.
“Great. Anyway, I just received news about a ship that could’ve been yours. Apparently they’re stranded on Mars and waiting on fuel to head back to Earth. Though that could take months since it has to go through Martian customs. I’d imagine we’d arrive at Saturn long before they’re set to head back.”
Apollo chuckles. “It’s a good thing you guys found me when you did then.”
“Eh, I don’t know,” Ema shrugs, “I heard Martian hot springs are really good for your skin.”
“Think I’d rather just head home,” he replies.
“Well, too bad you’re stuck here then?” she smirks. “We might be able to salvage some of your stuff but you won’t be getting them back until we get to Earth.”
“That’s fine,” he sighs. “Not much in there anyway.”
“Alright,” she nods, “I just wanted to give you an update. Oh, and, it’s karaoke night at the starship bar tonight!”
“I’ll avoid it like the plague,” he grins.
“I seriously doubt that,” she says, “Catch you later!”
It’s been about two Earth weeks since he boarded Themis and the experience is… a lot. Though, he guesses that’s to be expected when he’d gotten used to a lot of nothing. He should be thankful that everyone’s been friendly, makes the road to Saturn a little more bearable. And the road to Saturn is very, very long. Apollo learns this quickly. The fact is that after a month of complete isolation, the last thing Apollo should be doing is avoiding any and all chances he has of human contact, no matter how overbearing and over the top they can be.
So he really shouldn’t complain when Athena knocks on his door later that evening with a pair of scissors.
“No,” he says, backing himself into a corner, “Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on, Apollo!” Athena exclaims, only inching closer. “Let me cut your hair! You know you want me to.”
“I do not,” he shakes his head, “I absolutely do not!”
The truth is, he could do with a haircut. His hair doesn’t usually reach under his ears and right now it’s getting well past that line. He doesn’t even have hair gel on him to be able to style his hair like he usually does. He’s been having to push away his bangs that have been falling on his face. It’s a bit irritating.
But Athena with a pair of scissors? Overexcitable, caps lock in human form Athena? You wouldn’t blame him for being hesitant.
“She’s actually not that bad at it,” Juniper tells him as if reading his mind, “Thena cuts my hair all the time. And hers.”
Apollo turns to Athena with an eyebrow raised.
“I do!” she says, “C’mon, I wouldn’t offer to do it if I wasn’t one hundred percent sure that I could!”
Apollo turns back to Juniper. All she does is shrug.
“She’s right,” Juniper says.
On second thought, he’s not sure if he could trust Juniper either.
“... fine,” he relents.
“Great!” Athena exclaims, definitely too loud for whatever time of the day it was, “Juni, get a chair from our room, we’ve got some work to do!”
Juniper leaves to do just that and pulls Apollo onto the chair. He just breathes in, bracing himself.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?” he asks as a last precaution.
“Calm down, Apollo!” she says, “I got this! Now, how short do you wanna go?”
“Uh,” he says with uncertainty, “Just a bit under my ears?”
“Got it,” she says, snipping the scissors near his ear. “Sit back.”
He does as he’s told, sitting completely still, back stiff as Athena got to work.
“You’ve never dyed your hair, huh?” Athena comments as she takes the tail-end of his hair.
“Uh, no,” he says, trying not to shake his head.
In front of them, Juniper giggles. “Thena and I dyed our hair freshman year.”
“More like tried,” Athena snips, “It washed off immediately!”
“Well whose fault was it that you didn’t read the packaging properly?”
“They should’ve put it in bigger letters if it was so important to use a specific kind of shampoo!” she exclaims.
Apollo chuckles. “That might just be standard dyed-hair care.”
“That’s what I told her!”
“Apollo!” she gasps, “You’re supposed to be on myside!”
There’s something therapeutic about letting someone cut your hair. Even though he started off pretty wary that Athena would accidentally cut too short or worse, cut the skin of his nape, eventually, he calmed down. Athena knew who to talk her mouth off and that made Apollo distracted enough to not think about the pair of blades so close to his head.
“Done!” she exclaims, “I did alright, didn’t I?”
Juniper went over to hold a mirror in front of him and she did do alright. Better than he’d expected, although he guesses that’s just a testament of how much he doesn’t know Athena at all.
“You did,” he says, turning to her, “Thanks, Athena.”
“¡No hay problema!” she says, “We’re just in time for karaoke night.”
He turns his head to check the side of his face and Athena really did do a good job. Now, he can style his hair like he usually did.
“Yeah,” he says absentmindedly, checking the other side of his face.
“... wait, what?”
┅
It feels like the entire ship was doused in glitter.
He steps into what he knows to be the dinner hall but is greeted by strobe lights and loud music instead of the usual smell of meat and ambient noise of passing conversations. People are gathered around the center, dancing to the person singing on stage. He feels incredibly out of place even with the new haircut. In fact, he thinks it makes him stand out even more.
“Apollo!”
It’s hard to see in such dim light, even harder to hear with the loud music, but eventually his eyes recognise Klavier’s face approaching him at a rapid pace, as if appearing in front of him without so much as a warning. His wrist is taken in a light grip, pulling his feet to walk forward ever so slightly as Klavier sees him. His eyes glaze up and then down his body, like Klavier was taking his time to take in the view, like Apollo was something to appreciate.
“Well,” Klavier tilts his head, his voice the only thing Apollo’s ears zero in on even in midst of all the noise, “You clean up well.”
Apollo blushes. Was this flirting? Or was this just something Klavier did? How is he even supposed to respond? Should he respond?
“I’ll say,” Athena interjects and it gives Apollo an excuse to look at something else other than Klavier. But Klavier still stares on. “How many drinks do you think it’ll take for him to sing a song?”
“Woah, woah, ” Apollo is quick to respond, “I am not singing.”
“Oh come on,” Athena whines, “It’s karaoke night! Singing is literally the point of the event!”
“I second the fraulein’s statement,” Klavier smiles, “I think you should sing.”
Apollo shakes his head. “No. I’m not even gonna drink. I have no idea what I’m doing here.”
“It’s to have a good time, ja?” Klavier suggests. “One song wouldn’t hurt.”
He shrugs, rolling the ball into Apollo’s court. Beside him, Athena nods in support,
“¡Exacto!” she exclaims.
He has another refusal already at the tip of his tongue but then he catches Klavier’s stare. The lights glare his vision painting the man in red, blue, purple, pink. He can still see the group of people behind them but they’re a blur compared to how Klavier stands in front of him. His presence seems to demand all of his attention that everything seems to just fade into the background. The constant thump of the bass, the loud cheers, the man on stage, all seem to go quiet, like they’re making way. Here comes Klavier, the traveling space artist and he’s here to put on a show. Except this time, Klavier isn’t on stage. He’s extending a hand to Apollo, almost shy, which is the only part of him that reminds Apollo that he’s human, and he’s asking him to sing.
But Apollo’s not one to keep the spotlight only to himself.
“Sing with me,” he says, without thinking because he wouldn’t have said it if he’d even stopped to think.
Suddenly Apollo is the one extending his hand, bringing himself up the stage and asking Klavier to share it with him.
“I’d love to,” Klavier responds.
Behind them, the crowd applauds the last person on the stage as they walk down, and Apollo has to wonder if the timing was planned from the start.
“Pick the song,” Klavier pushes him to the stage, “I’ll sing whatever you choose.”
He approaches the band with awkward steps, mind blank and chest heavy. He’s not used to being in front of an audience, especially after so long without an iota of human contact.
So he goes back to the basics, goes back to what he knows best—he goes back home. And there’s really only one answer.
The recognition is immediately evident on Klavier’s face when the band starts to play. Apollo places his gaze at his feet, still shy in front of such a crowd. But he sees a smile creep up on Klavier’s face and some part of him is glad he’s part of why it’s there.
The familiar tune he’d thought he could forget, the song he wanted to run away from, the melody that was home that came out of a stranger’s voice. His parents’ song starts, and Klavier takes the lead.
He doesn’t remember most of the performance, only that he felt like he wasn’t on the ground, like he’d lost gravity and up there with him was Klavier, tied to him with a song. He knows the words, has memorised the melody, even plays with the harmony. Klavier’s up there performing and Apollo’s barely keeping up. But he’s there. He’s singing with him, the same words, the same melody, the same harmony. He knows this song, too, like the back of his hand. Once, this song was home, and right now, maybe the song was something else. Maybe right now, home was something else, too.
When it ended, the crowd cheered, but the noise was lost on Apollo’s ears. All he could hear was the crack of laughter that erupted on Klavier’s lips, loud and carefree, contagious to affect Apollo himself. This part wasn’t a performance. It was just them.
Even as they leave the stage, their smiles never leave the stretch of their lips.
┅
For a minute, he feels like he's back in the space pod.
He's just floating in space alone, drifting without an orbit or gravity to hold him in place. He'd never known the world could be that quiet, that empty. They talk a lot about just how unfathomably large the expanse of space is, but they never talk about how terrifying that could be. Especially when you have to brave it by yourself.
Apollo opens his eyes to his empty cabin room. His lights are off but he doesn't remember going to sleep. He doesn't even remember getting to his room last night. He remembers the intercom announcing that they'd be approaching Jupiter soon and nothing else.
He feels cold. Colder than he's supposed to be. The world feels like it's caving in on him as he lies there still, limbs feeling heavier than they are, bones brittle and weak. But breathing feels even harder to do than moving. Like the ship's oxygen supply depleted overnight and now they're running out. Maybe that's exactly what happened. Maybe he's getting the short end of the stick and is about to be sent out of the airlock. Back to the space pod he goes.
His door opens but he doesn't get to see who comes in. Maybe it's Ema about to break the news. She's probably brutal enough to do that. Brutal enough than anyone he's met on the ship at least.
"Apollo," Klavier's voice calls instead. He approaches Apollo slowly and peers over him with a frown, raising a hand to rest on Apollo's forehead. Despite himself, Apollo closes his eyes, taking in the soft touch of Klavier's hand for everything it probably isn't.
"You're burning up," he says and the hand is gone. He's walking to the other side of the cabin where Apollo can't see him and he doesn't even have the voice to complain. "You feel too warm, hold on."
Klavier’s definitely lying. He's freezing cold. Klavier should be throwing him a blanket instead of—what is he doing? He’s rummaging through Apollo’s stuff. He’s rummaging through Apollo’s stuff and he doesn’t even have the energy to stop him.
“Did you not bring any medication with you?” Klavier says, and, oh, he’s looking for medicine. Makes sense. Apollo isn’t making much sense at the moment but he is also degrees above freezing which is more than enough of an excuse for him.
“Got lost—,” Apollo breathes, “—in the other ship.”
“Scheiße,” Klavier says under his breath, going back to sit at Apollo’s side.
He doesn’t have another chair in here so he’s sitting on the bed, the warmth of his body radiating off of him in small waves. Gently, Klavier leans over Apollo’s face, eyebrows furrowed in concern. His hair is falling off his sides and Apollo’s just left there to stare. He could close his eyes again, distract himself with the hand Klavier places on his forehead. But instead he just looks at him for what feels like hours. Every second goes by as a slow crawl. Then the world goes silent. Space goes into its constant state and he’s holding his breath.
But this time he’s not alone. Klavier is looking down at him in the midst of the quiet. Then that nothing is filled with something.
“Your body’s not used to being this far away from the sun,” Klavier tells him but Apollo is barely listening. He’s just hearing the sound of his voice. “You’re spacesick. We need to get you some medicine.”
That sounds a lot like Klavier’s about to get up and leave and right now Apollo doesn’t want that. Not yet. The quietness of space has never felt so calm, he needs him to stay here until the cold passes. He stretches a hand to reach out to Klavier and it makes the smallest of impacts. But it makes Klavier look back at him, an eyebrow raising.
Apollo breathes out. “No.”
He tries to grip onto his arm but his body isn’t listening to him. His mouth isn’t even listening to him. He’s acting needy and selfish and tomorrow morning, or whenever he feels better, he’s gonna curl into himself and cringe if he ever even remembers this. But Klavier is looking at him with kind eyes and touching him with even kinder hands. The hand on his forehead begins to run through his hair, smoothing it out with a gentle push. This time, Apollo closes his eyes. They’re too heavy to open again so he just lets Klavier play with his hair. His breathing slows down and he knows he’s about to fall asleep but a part of him doesn’t want to. He wants to stay in the moment before he lets it pass.
The last thing he hears is Klavier’s low, mellow voice until everything falls into the dark of space.
┅
SPACE LOG: DAY 78
Time: 22:49 (Earth Time UTC+9)
Location: S.S. Themis — Jupiter's Exosphere
Note: Still a little out of it from the lack of solar rays. Should be able to adjust soon. If I ever go on another one of these whirlwind trips, I'll remember to bring something that'll remedy this problem. If I don't, well, medics on board should be pretty proficient in what they do. Otherwise, I'll have to rely on the kindness of strangers again.
I sometimes forget that space is quiet. That shared between billions of stars is a silence that stretches as far as the red shift. And on Earth, you don't think about just how long the distance of two stars can be, especially when they seem so close from where you stand.
I haven't been home in very long, and I won't be home yet very soon either. But there's something about the quiet of space, the stillness of it all, that reminds me of it. Like I'm holding my breath as I'm watching something unfold, bracing myself for the drop. Waiting. Maybe that's what I've been doing all along.
Themis is at the gas giants now. Should pass by Jupiter and arrive at Saturn soon.
-AJ
┅
Instinctively, Apollo knows they’ve landed before anyone tells him. He wakes up from the air of urgency, the sounds of footsteps penetrating through the steel walls of his cabin, overhearing small, excited bursts of conversation as people walk past his door. When he sits up, he sees three of Saturn’s moons against its famous rings in the skyline.
He isn’t awake enough to notice someone knocking on his door.
“Hey,” Ema peeks in, “We just landed, in case you haven’t noticed.”
Apollo sits up, scratching the back of his head and groaning quietly.
“You feel better?” she asks, letting herself in but leaving the door open behind her, “You’re free to stay on the ship if you want. We’ll be here for about two days before turning back.”
Apollo pushes himself off his bed. “I’m fine,” he tells him, looking out the window again. “What time is it?”
“Uh, Earth time or Saturn time?” she asks.
“There’s a difference?”
“Of course there’s a difference,” Ema says, “Daytime only lasts about five hours here.”
“How many hours until morning?”
“One,” she leans against the wall, “But plenty of Saturninans are already awake. I hear most of them don’t sleep.”
“Huh,” Apollo breathes, blinking out at the passing clouds.
“Klavier hasn’t unboarded.”
He turns to her. “What makes you think I needed to know that?”
She shrugs, smiling like she knew better. Apollo knew she knew better. “Just thought I’d tell you. He looked like he was waiting for something.”
Apollo almost clutches his chest but he doesn’t say anything, too proud to even mention the constant unease he felt whenever the artist was mentioned, least of all admit it to someone he’d known only for a short period of time. Even if her knowing looks did nail his feelings on the head, he would never give her the satisfaction of his affirmation.
“Maybe he’s waiting for the sun,” Apollo guesses.
“The sun?” Ema raises her eyebrow. “... maybe.”
He hears Ema straighten up, walking backwards towards the open door.
“He's near the doors in case you’re wondering,” she smirks, and with that she leaves.
He splutters just as she takes off, wanting to get the last word in but failing. He’s just glad she doesn’t get to see the blush on his cheeks as he turns away and grabs his clothes from his wardrobe. Maybe going outside does sound like a good idea.
┅
He tells himself he isn’t expecting anything as he navigates his way through the ship.
He passes by Athena and Juniper who are far too preoccupied with getting ready to do their usual doting on Apollo, only having time for a quick, “Hello!” before they disappeared back into their cabin. Athena looked especially out of it, looking a little pale and soulless, clutching Juniper’s arm with a vice grip as if it was the only thing keeping her present. It was sort of refreshing to see Athena so out of her element, not that Apollo took any enjoyment in Athena’s misery. But it was nice to see that it wasn’t all sunshine and daisies with the girl that definitely looked like it.
“This might be the last time we ever see each other,” Juniper mentioned as Athena buried her head in her girlfriend’s neck.
Athena gasped all of the sudden. “You’re right!”
“We could always radio?” Apollo suggested, surprising even himself, “I could give you my code?”
“We’d love that,” Juniper smiled.
They’d said their goodbyes, Apollo even gave Athena a supportive pat on the shoulder before he left for the doors.
Then the anticipation was impossible to deny.
He keeps his head down, looking at his feet and narrowly missing the people he passes by. He looks up only as he reaches the end of the ship, watching as people filtered out of the doors, eyes scanning the scene in front of him.
He tells himself he isn’t expecting anything, but as his eyes land on the sight of Klavier at the other end of the room, he knows in his mind that he’s lying.
Klavier smiles at him as their eyes meet, nodding in acknowledgment. Something in Apollo’s chest leaps and beckons him forward to meet him there.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hi,” Klavier responds. “Ema says you’re feeling better.”
Apollo almost grits his teeth. “Yeah,” he nods, “Been fine for a while. I… slept a lot.”
“I know,” Klavier says, “I mean—I was—I saw—noticed. I noticed. I haven’t seen you since—”
He pauses. Apollo’s not sure if it’s to find the words or if he wants Apollo to fill in the blanks. After all, Apollo barely remembers the last time he saw Klavier. He was already sick by then. He was in his bed, feeling cold and hot at the same time. Then Klavier appeared suddenly, as if out of nowhere, and then he’d laid his hand on his head. He’d said something Apollo can’t remember and then—
“Yeah,” Apollo swallows, looking away. “Anyway, I’m better now.”
“Das ist gut,” Klavier tells him, “Just in time to sightsee.”
“Yeah,” Apollo watches the people leaving the ship.
“Are you?”
“Hm?”
“Sightseeing,” he clarifies, “I know you’re only here to get back to Earth but, well, since we’re here—,” he gestures to the doors, “Might as well, ja?”
That makes Apollo chuckle. “Yeah. I figured I would look around.”
“A wise decision,” Klavier nods, “I hear the aurora borealis will be visible in a few hours.”
“Really?” he turns to him.”From here?”
“There is a place on the crust where it’s best to see them,” Klavier says, “If you’d like… we could go there.”
“We?” Apollo blinks, “You mean, like, together?”
Klavier smiles shyly, tilting his head at the man. Apollo suddenly feels so much smaller.
“If you’d like,” he nods.
Something catches in his throat before he even gets to speak, causing him to cough. He turns away, embarrassed, feeling his face go red. It’s never easy to talk to Klavier.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
“Yeah,” he strains. “Just—choked on something.”
He clears his throat, swallowing his spit and smiling awkwardly. Luckily, Klavier smiles back.
“Well?” he asks, “Would you like to see the lights with me?”
Apollo breathes in, his chest greeting a familiar weight. He looks up, hearing the sound of his heart beating in his ears getting louder the longer he looked at Klavier.
“Yes,” he says in the end, and it feels like he can finally breathe. “I’d like that.”
Klavier smiles again (somehow, it always feels like he’s smiling.)
“Before that,” he says, “I want to take you somewhere.”
┅
Ema wasn't kidding when she said that Saturn barely sleeps.
Apollo and Klavier walk into the town square in tandem, greeting the fast-paced energy of the locals even as they took the time to take in the view. Saturn's sunrise is gorgeous even though they can only see it through a cloud of smoke and gas. The dark black of night turns into a multicoloured sky quicker than Apollo thought it would. All of a sudden it was morning.
"You in the mood for coffee?" Klavier asks him, nudging his shoulder softly.
It makes Apollo turn to him. "There's coffee on Saturn?"
"Something that resembles coffee, ja," he nods, pointing to a quaint little shop just a few paces in front of them.
He follows the line of his finger. "Huh," he says in realisation, turning back to Klavier to say, "Sure."
When Apollo steps in what he assumes to be the coffee shop, he feels everyone's eyes land on him. He gets it, he's a foreigner. He tries his best to push it aside and just trail behind Klavier like normal so that he can order his drink and rush outside to avoid the directed gazes. But Klavier looks completely unphased. Like all of the staring was something he just dealt with on the daily. He looks like he'd learned how to ignore all the attention over time. He's got it down to a science.
"What do you want?" Klavier asks him, scanning the menu for drinks.
Apollo attempts to read it but it's all foreign words, ingredients he's never heard of, things he'd never seen before.
"You pick," he says, dizzied by the words, "I'll wait outside."
He bolts out of the shop, sitting down at one of the tables near the window. He'd come out to get some air, but even the air feels different. It's not exasperating, nor is it overwhelming. It feels like a completely different sensation all together. Something he's never experienced before.
He breathes in, holding onto his chest. He's never felt so far from home.
Klavier arrives with their drinks soon, something pink-coloured. He looks right at home for some reason, easily smiling at the barista and the other patrons like he was here so often. It feels almost embarrassing to be next to him, all laid back and sipping his pink-coloured drink, carefree as he watches the crowd pass by and the stores set up. It makes Apollo feel even more out of place.
"How many times have you been here?" he asks.
"Only once before," Klavier replies, sipping his drink, "About three years ago, I was very young."
"Three years?"
"Mhm."
"Do they usually… stare at you?"
"Oh, all the time," Klavier waves his hand dismissively. "Don't take it the wrong way. Other planets don't have the same social faux pas we have. Ack, I barely even notice it now."
Apollo scoffs, drinking his "coffee". It tastes a bit tangy.
In the center of the town square, there's a man setting up a small show. Just him, some speakers, a mic, and a stringed-instrument that has too many strings to be a guitar. He plays with it for a while, checking his voice and how it comes out so he can adjust it.
The man begins to sing, and Apollo turns to Klavier just to see him watching with rapt attention.
"So, when's your big show?" he asks.
"Big show?" Klavier tilts his head.
"Yeah," Apollo nods, "Aren't you Mr. Space-Travelling-Artist?"
Klavier chuckles, taking a sip of his coffee before looking up to ask, "Is that what you think I do? Big shows with fanfares and lights?"
"That's what you do every night at dinner," he jokes.
Klavier chuckles again. "Right."
He downs more of his drink, setting it down with a weak thud.
"How about I show you what I really do?" he asks.
Before Apollo can reply, he's already standing up and making his way to the center of the town square, whispering something into the ear of the man currently performing.
Then he takes the stage.
Whatever attention Apollo attracted the moment he stepped into that coffee shop was nothing compared to when Klavier started singing. Even people passing by turned their heads to see him. It was as if the town quieted down and all they could hear were two musicians on the street.
Apollo's heart clenched at the sight of him, and for a moment, being in an unfamiliar place didn't feel so bad at all.
┅
SPACE LOG: DAY 87
Time: 04:18 (Earth Time UTC+9)
Location: Off-board — Saturn's Crust
Note: Saturn is gorgeous in the 5 hours of daytime it has. Not that the night is especially hideous, but seeing its rings in the sky every time I look up is a different kind of special. You don't get to see them at night.
The people here move like they have no time to waste. Literally. I thought everything used to move so fast back at home, here no one even stops to breathe.
I miss Earth and that's not the first time I've admitted that. I want to go home and I am going home. I don't understand why anyone wouldn't want that. But being here, being surrounded with all this haste, this urgency, this freedom, it's got me thinking that maybe I don't want to go home. At least not yet.
Or maybe I'm just trying to look for reasons to stay. I mean, if that's the case, then I think I might have a really good one.
Themis leaves for Earth tomorrow morning. Maybe then I'll make sense of all this.
-AJ
┅
Klavier says he knows a place to watch the lights so they finish their drinks and take off. Klavier winks and waves to the crowd and they all smile at him like they’re already smitten. Apollo doesn’t blame them.
He takes him to narrower and narrower streets. Saturn doesn’t look like it has a huge population but as they zip through the alleyways, the number of people around them dwindle and soon disappear. Apollo’s only guide through the empty spots is Klavier’s back. His stature is confident and the line of his shoulders are straight. Even his steps are so sure, striding through brick and cement like he’s lived here all his life. They duck out of an alleyway to greet the bottom of a staircase. It’s surrounded by a small hill with overgrown grass and its stone is cracking at the corners. Before Klavier makes the first step, he looks back.
It’s the closest thing to a sunset here on Saturn and Apollo can see its rings and countless moons decorating the sky behind Klavier. He wonders how well the lights will fare against the sight.
“Come on,” Klavier beckons, “We’re nearly there.”
When they walk up the stairs, Klavier’s steps slow down enough that he and Apollo can walk side by side. It’s a tight fit but they’re walking slow, as if they were already taking in the view, silent and appreciative. They’re close enough that their hands brush against each other every time they take a step. When Apollo glances at Klavier, he’s already looking at him, eyes soft and searching. His hand inches closer, skin warm compared to the coolness of Saturn’s winds.
“You seem to be very familiar with this place,” Apollo tells him, pulling his hand away, tucking it behind him for safe measure. Klavier’s eyes flicker with something that looks like disappointment but Apollo tells himself his brain is making it up.
“It’s kind of hard to forget,” Klavier shrugs, “You’ll see what I mean.”
He gestures towards the end of the staircase. It’s still a little ways away.
“You ever think of staying?” he asks.
“What, here?” he asks, “Ja.”
“Really?”
“I’ve thought about staying at many places,” he adds, “And Saturn is beautiful. The people are kind and the days are so full of life.”
“But?” Apollo pushes.
“But,” Klavier nods, “If every place is a place worth staying at, why stay anywhere at all?”
Apollo’s eyebrows furrow. Klavier’s looking down at him with a faint smile on his face and wind blows to brush his hair against his cheeks. Behind him, the sky gets darker.
“I haven’t been on Earth since I was fourteen and I hardly remember any of it. I don’t have any family, not any worth mentioning anyway, and I’ve been on my feet, going from starship to starship to… wherever. I don’t have a home. I’ve never needed it. And travelling, going around the solar system performing my songs is something that I love. Why stay anywhere if I could just keep doing this?”
Apollo looks forward, swallowing as if taking in what Klavier’s words.
“You’ve never had somewhere where you just wanted to stay?” he asks.
Klavier shrugs. “Nein. Not really.”
Apollo’s heart sinks. He’d been stuck in space for god knows who long now, and even surrounded with the beautiful Saturn terrain, all he wanted to do is go back and return to Earth. He’s had enough of the so-called wonder of space, this wasn’t a place where he belonged. Even with gravity, he feels like he’s still floating, up in the spacepod, alone.
They reach the end of the staircase and it’s completely dark. Below, the Saturn skyline glows far away, like little stars so close to the ground. Apollo looks up and the only thing he sees are rings and more moons. No lights.
“Where—”
“Wait,” Klavier tells him, holding up a hand.
Apollo goes silent, just staring up at the sky like he’s holding his breath, on the precipice of something, bracing.
Then, something glows.
It starts far away from them, like the light is still growing, stretching across the surface of the air. Until, all of the sudden, a rainbow surrounds them, and it goes on even past them, following a line to wherever the end is.
Apollo lets out a breath. The lights are beautiful.
“Wow,” he says aloud.
“Wow,” Klavier agrees.
He turns to him, looking up at the lights in awe, and his face is illuminated by the glow, shades of red, blue, yellow, and purple cascade over his face. He looks beautiful.
Apollo’s been floating in space for god knows how long, waiting to get back home, but perhaps some part of home is here. Here in the form of the man in front of him.
“Come home with me.”
He speaks without thinking. Or perhaps he’s been thinking it all this time. Perhaps it was just at the back of his head, waiting to be brought into the light. Perhaps he’s been wanting this all the while.
“You said you didn’t want to stay anywhere, but,” Apollo pauses, feeling his heart beat loudly in his chest, blood rushes to his face and he feels it heat up his cheeks. “If you can’t find home here, find it in me.”
He watches Klavier’s face turn shocked, mouth falling open, eyes widening at Apollo’s words, wondering, searching. He blinks at him, going quiet with no words.
Then he watches his face fall.
“Apollo,” he says, voice low, a bittersweet laugh coming out of his mouth. It sounds a lot like a door closing.
“I’m sorry,” is what he says.
Apollo drowns out the rest of what he says. The world around him caves and what’s left is him and his beating heart. It slows and closes into him.
The lights go and Apollo is floating in space, alone once again.
┅
The train feels a lot emptier than it did before.
He’s finding his way through, passively smiling at the other passengers. He’d waved to Ema when he first stepped back on who in turn gave him a short nod.
“Ready to go home?” she’d asked him.
He sucked in a breath.
“Yeah,” he nodded, “I’m ready.”
He finds his cabin soon enough, settling down on his bed, feeling his bones grow weary.
Now, all he had to do was wait.
He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. He’d taken a leap of fate, fitting considering he was in space. There was a risk, there was always a risk even if he hadn’t stopped to think about it. Even if he’d stopped to think about everything, the answer would be the same.
He was going home, and he was going home alone.
Someone knocks on his door.
“Hi,” Klavier breathes out, looking a little out of breath, gripping the side of the door, half in, half out.
Something in Apollo aches.
“Klavier?” he stands up.
He looks a little embarrassed to be here, eyes downcast, face a little worried. Like he's still debating whether or not he would be allowed in the room. Like maybe Apollo was mad at him.
"If you're here to apologise," Apollo starts, "Then don't."
That makes Klavier look up, looking even more conflicted. His hands grip the door as if he's about to slip away.
"I don't want you to think I don't want to," Klavier says faintly, "It's just that I can't."
He lets himself in and closes the door. He approaches Apollo with his eyes trained on the floor and makes Apollo's stomach drop.
"You… can't?" he asks.
Klavier looks at him. "You've seen me perform. This is what I've been doing all my life. And yes; it is lonely and it is tiring and sometimes it makes me feel like I have no direction whatsoever. But it's what I love to do."
This time, it's Apollo that can't look up.
“I wanted you to know something,” he says, grabbing his hands, “Before you left.”
His hands feel so warm against his skin. So calloused and real.
“I think I might've liked having a home in you," he says, raising a hand to graze his cheek. "But for now, I think I'll stay where I am."
Apollo closes his eyes, letting in the feeling of Klavier's hand against his skin, committing it to memory. If anything, he just wants to remember this.
"Do you remember what I told you before? When you asked me what brought me to space?"
Klavier hums, a stare Apollo can't bring himself to decipher in his eyes.
"I told you I was looking for something," he continues.
He thinks about that first night (or morning) on the ship. He was surrounded by noise, of the wonder of space, of the excitement, of the potential. But he could only take in one thing.
The stranger in the middle of the room, singing a song that reminded him of home.
"I think I found it," he says, looking at Klavier like he did the first time he saw him. Like he was the most familiar thing in space.
He's headed home now, but at the same time, he's leaving home, too.
┅
SPACE LOG: DAY 107
Time: 21:43 (Earth Time UTC+9)
Location: Earth's Orbit
Notes: It's my last day on Themis and, to be honest, I'm feeling a little melancholic. Something about being stuck in a metal tube for so long makes you feel attached to it somehow. But I guess it isn't the only thing I'll miss.
Space is unfathomably large, and you really start to feel it after one round trip from Mars to Saturn. But I think I'm doing a good job at making it feel a little smaller. A little closer. You can only go so far being the lost boy, after all. It's time to start getting some direction.
I have a feeling Earth's gravity is gonna feel a lot different after being adrift in space. But it's gonna feel like home.
I'm coming home.
-AJ
┅
“Are we there yet, Polly?”
Apollo strides forward with itchy feet, forgetting to turn back just to check if his sister was still behind him. It isn’t until Trucy’s tugging at his back that he turns.
“Hey,” Trucy calls, “Where are we going?”
“We’re near,” he says, “Trust me, you’re gonna want a good view of it.”
Trucy catches up to him, breathing heavily.
“That’s the thing,” she tells him, blowing away a stray strand of her hair that’s fallen on her eye. ”I have no idea what it is!”
Apollo chuckles, raising a hand to mess up her hair. He does it only because he knows she hates it.
“You’ll see,” he says, giving her a smile.
She rolls her eyes.
“Ah, the pursuit of knowledge never ends!” she sighs dramatically.
He wasn’t lying. He’d found this spot a little after he’d gotten back to Earth. He needed a place a little closer to the sky just to clear his mind. There’s just something about seeing nothing but the stretch of night over head and feeling the grass beneath him. It makes him feel like he isn’t exactly on the ground but still not floating in space. Like he’s just suspended in the air, a strange, comforting in-between.
“We’re here,” Apollo calls, helping Trucy up the last time.
Trucy breathes out. “Finally!” she exclaims, squinting up at the sky, “Now what am I looking at?”
Apollo searches the night sky. From where they are the moon hangs high and bright against the pitch black littered with stars. It’s a far cry from the sky he saw in space, a far cry from the sky he saw on another planet. But it’s the most familiar sky he knows. He grows silent for a moment, just taking it in.
And then he sees it.
“There,” he points, feeling a wave of fondness and ache wash over him, “There it is.”
Trucy follows where his finger points, trying to make out what’s supposed to be there.
It’s small but noticeable, larger than the rest of the stars that it stands out. And it isn’t the moon, it’s too small for that. It’s a bright little circle. And it’s strange to see it like this, knowing that he’s felt its crust, has felt its brisk wind.
“Saturn,” he says, placing down his hand, breathing slowly as he stares at the planet from where he is.
He hasn’t been off the Earth since that last trip. He hasn’t wanted to, but he’d like to someday. Earth will always be home to him. But Apollo knows home doesn’t have to be a place. It doesn’t have to be concrete ground, doesn’t have to be gravity pulling him down. Home can be something else, someone else. He could find a space he belonged in beside someone he cherished, someone he loved. He’d found it before, found him before.
Someday, he’d find him again.