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Achilles hated grocery stores. The clash of carts and the glare of the lights. Intercoms squawking overhead. The uncomfortable chill in the frozen section. After a draining day of work, he just wanted to go for a run. Or faceplant onto the couch. Leave this torture to literally anyone else. Pat was the chef. Achilles didn't know what tasted good.
Now, he hadn't just volunteered to come. He was pushing the squeaky cart. Actively paying attention as he moved past the bright rows of cereal boxes. Hearing the fast, eager footfalls of his son, (Gods, that took some getting used to...) running up and down the aisle. Throwing things in the basket.
He grabbed cheese puffs, marshmallows, pizza rolls... Things that made Achilles' inner health nut writhe. But he couldn't find it in himself to scold, or even cringe.
Pat had crouched on the tile, explaining to the boy, "Money is tight. We can't always get all your favorites. But as your birthday's coming up... Is there anything you'd like?"
There was plenty that Zagreus liked. Food he remembered from his time with Hades, plus things he hadn't tried but always wanted.
Achilles watched him closely as he darted back and forth. His black hair and t-shirt stood out against the colorful boxes.
"Not that one, Stranger," Pat chided gently.
Zag deflated, lowering his Sugar Bombs...
"Get a family size box. Share with Achilles and I."
He swapped his choice for a larger version, enough to feed the three of them.
He seemed alive and animated, more so than he'd been in the past. Achilles recalled the legalese, nervously answering a social worker's questions. Converting the study into a bedroom, and installing parental locks on their streaming devices. Finally signing the adoption papers. Driving home with a sullen, heterochromic six year old curling in on himself in the backseat.
It was a slow process, getting to know each other. The boy flinched if they tried to ruffle his hair, and communicated mostly through sarcasm. The two inexperienced dads were forever meeting with the principal, digesting horror stories where Zag started a fight, or mouthed off at a teacher.
Once, Pat carelessly blurted "Your father and I..."
Zagreus had raged, "Not Father!" Slammed his door in their twin concerned faces.
But lately, he'd opened up. Quicker with a joke. Slower to run off, or shout in anger. Less shy about asking for snacks, love, or homework help.
As the three passed a rack of toys, he reached up and grabbed a plush Antos. A cartoonish thing, with an oversized head and a cheesy smile. Held it close, squishing down its floppy antennae.
"...Please?"
Into the cart it went.
Achilles gripped the plastic handlebar, summoned his utmost power of self-control, and fought an outlandish urge to buy the entire toy section.
Pat's arm snaked through his, head lolling onto his shoulder. "You are doing a great job with that kid."
"I am?" he shot back. "What about you?"
"Flattery will get you everywhere."
Their heads turned.
Their lips brushed.
"Zagreus!" Pat pulled away. "Come back. Don't get lost."
He whirled around, ran to the two older men. Let Pat's large hand engulf his tiny one.
They had the occasional rough day. Achilles would find the boy crying under a desk, or huddled in the alcove between the bed and the wall. Ask questions as he shook his head no.
"Lad, are you alright?"
"Want to talk about it?"
"Would you like me to sit with you?"
Recently, he'd started nodding "yes" to that. Achilles stayed put.
"Than! Hey!" Zagreus tugged on Pat's arm, wildly waving his free hand. "Over here!"
A man in a big hat was examining a cabbage. Two light-haired boys peered out from behind his trench coat.
"THANATOS!"
The groups met in the produce section, against the backdrop of a fruit display.
"They're Than and Hypnos, my friends from school," he chatted. "That's their big brother, Charon..."
And, I already forgot which is which. Achilles waved politely.
Zag gestured at them with his short arms. "These are my dads!"
...What?
"TAG!" With that, he whacked Thanatos and took off at a sprint. His friends chasing after him.
"Don't get lost, Stranger."
"Hrrrrngh." Charon reached out for a handshake.
"I'm Achilles," he returned the greeting. "This is my husband, Pat."
"Nice to meet you. ...So that's Than. Zagreus talks about him all the time."
"Rrrrrrrrgh. Hrrrrrrrrrngh."
"How do kids have so much energy?"
Achilles stood under the fluorescent bulbs, with one hand on his cart and the other twined with Pat's, amidst a storm of footfalls and childish war cries. Glanced from his conversation partner to his son, and called out occasional reminders not to run too far.