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Mars had no clue what he was doing.
That’s untrue. He knew what he was doing on Earth’s surface. The other planet had made sure to explain the reason for it thoroughly before dropping him off in front of the building.
Apparently, Mars was a conversation of concern for the other rocky planets, who had been speaking about him behind his back, great. They were worried. Worried about the sunken eyes, about the way his shoulders sagged and about how as of late the red planet seemed to have one expression, that of complete dejection.
(How as of late, he was unable to fully look Phobos and Deimos in the eyes. How any mention of satellites caused the planet’s body to stiffen and become snappish).
“You look rough.” Earth deadpanned, placing a hand on Mars’ shoulder. “Like, really rough.”
“Thanks.” The red planet drawled, biting down against his tongue before anything else would spill out. It was always great to hear your best friend say you look like hot garbage. Thankfully, Earth took the awkward silence as a sign to continue. Squeezing his shoulder before continuing.
“Lucky for you, I have just the solution!”
His solution to Mars’ problems was a “rage room”.
The Earthlings in all their infinite wisdom had come up with a new invention to make themselves feel better. Coming up with the astounding idea of making an entire building for one purpose, and one purpose only. Hitting stuff, and hitting stuff hard.
Mars could certainly see the appeal to smashing things. And it beat having to punch the asteroids near his orbit until his knuckles became bloodied, bruised, and raw. This idea seemed significantly less painful based on the living planets explanation.
All things considered, he was fine with a trip down to Earth’s surface. In fact, he was relieved at the chance to blow off some steam.
He just didn’t know why he was there.
He being the center of the solar system. Helios, Ra, Apollo, the Inti, their one and only star, Sun.
When Mars had fully incorporated into his earthling body and woken up, he was the slightest bit confused at the sight of the taller celestial sitting by his side, who Earth had just seemed to “forget” was also joining to be joining the red planet.
Apparently, the Sun needed to blow off steam too. Which is fine, whatever. As long as it got him to stop solar flaring planets and moons at the slightest hint of anger. In fact, the rocky planet even encouraged it if that was the case. It didn’t make the car ride any less awkward though.
Earth had tried to create small talk on the way, emphasis on tried. But Mars hadn’t been in the mood to chat, he hadn’t been for a long while now. Suns’ newfound interest in zoning out to stare at all the stuff outside the car hadn’t helped with it either, and eventually the living planet had given up.
He had dumped the two celestials on the curb abruptly with the instructions to call him when they had finished “smashing things to their cores content”, and to have fun. And it was as they stood there, staring at the entrance, did Sun finally speak up.
“So all we do is–hit stuff?”
“Yeah.” Earth had explained it multiple times to Sun throughout the ride, but whatever. The celestial had been too busy staring at cars driving past them to truly listen apparently.
“Earthlings are so silly! Creating a place with the whole intent to destroy.”
“.....” Mars chose not to respond, instead pushing open the door and entering the building. Sun seemed to wait, watching the door open, then close, before pushing it himself and following close behind.
The building seemed empty, outside of the woman sitting behind a desk, looking bored out of her mind. She glanced up and down at Mars, before tilting her head to the side as Sun made his way forward. Placing her phone against the desk.
“2:30 booking?” She dragged her vowels. Mars nodded. “You’ll have to sign a waiver.”
“A waiver?”
“So the company doesn’t get in trouble if you get hurt.”
“Why would we get hurt? Isn’t the whole point of this that it’s safe?”
“Just sign it.”
Mars sighed, a deep, bone-tired sigh, before squinting down at the paper he was handed. He probably should look through the safety regulations. Ensure that there were no sneaky loopholes the company would try to put them through.
But he wasn’t in the mood for all that. Almost seconds after being given the clipboard he had already swiped the pen from the woman's palm, hastily signed his name, and passed it behind him for the star to do the same.
He passed the contract back to her, who quickly stuffed it against a folder before she stood abruptly, heels clicking as she walked past the two. They waited, before following behind.
She led the duo through twisting hallways with blinding white lights, stopping once she reached a door. Reaching into her pocket she retrieved a key, unlocking the room and stepping inside.
Saying that junk was inside was an overstatement. Broken electronics, furniture, and glassware littered the ground. She ignored it all, stepping to the side.
“Put on the face shield, gloves, and overalls.” The woman motioned to the small pile of clothing. “After that just do whatever.”
“Whatever?” Sun piped up. She shot him a look, but the star refused to back down. “That’s broad.”
“It’s a rage room, break stuff.” The protective gear was thrust in Sun’s direction, his face twitched as the star's expression deepened. “You have thirty minutes until your session expires.” She droned, locking the door as she shut it.
Mars rolled his eyes at her bluntness, barely even waiting for her to leave before already slipping himself into the overalls. How they had his exact size, the red planet had no idea. A small mercy from the universe, he assumed. He twisted to the side, haphazardly slipping on the gloves and headwear, and glanced as he watched Sun follow suit.
It had taken a while to actually start. The atmosphere was tense, neither sure who should make the first move after grabbing their respective baseball bats.
The awkwardness was fair. Mar wasn’t sure of the last time he and Sun had had a conversation. Not since…
“I AM HELIOS, RA, APOLLO, THE INTI! YOU DARE MOCK MY NAME ARES!?!”
Fear, Ares felt pure, unbridled fear. His core surged at the emotion, at the sudden instinct to defend. Maneuvering Hermes until he was behind the larger planet. The flames were no longer warm, but burning, scorching his surface. Flares whipping around the star’s hair, snapping at Ares’ feet.
Any positive feelings towards his parent star dissipated in an instant, replaced with harsh, violent, wrath. This star was a threat, bad, stay away, Ares would protect, protect where he had failed so many times before-
Mars flinched at the memory, tightening his grip on the baseball back. It’d been a while, to say the least. But it wasn’t as if they were talkative before that though, what with the red planet being so close to the asteroid belt.
Maybe once before though. In another time, when there were five terrestrials instead of four.
His thoughts were quickly paused at a resounding–CRASH!
Mars’ head snapped back, scanning for a threat to find Sun, who had already begun smashing the baseball bat against a piece of glass with all his might. Which wasn’t much, with how frail his human body was.
Despite that, he hit a DVD player beside the couch. Then a clock, then his back cracked as he twisted to the side, smashing a small radio into dust. Breath heaving, but his expression shifted, a slightly unhinged smile on his face.
The red planet watched as the star swung the bat again, nailing a piece of China from its stand, shattering the moment it made contact with his bat. Even after, Sun didn’t stop attacking it. Smashing the ceramic plate over, and over again, until it was nothing more than a pile of dust until–
Stopping suddenly and gasping sharply as his hands moved to grasp at his chest. The star glanced down at the broken remnants of the pottery. Touching the pile of what was once a plate, before moving his thumb to rub at the various beauty marks littering his wrists.
Their human bodies equivalent to marks. Or the universes’ way of punishing a celestial for having their planets (or moons, in the planets cases) die. Mars had seen the one that had burned across Saturn’s wrist when he had lost his eldest moon, heard the way the ringed gas giant wailed all the way from his orbit as any attempt to conceal it failed.
He hadn’t tried gloves, Mars hummed at the thought, rubbing his cuff.
“You okay Sun?” He found the words to speak after a few minutes, moving closer to press his hand against the stars back. The star, who immediately gasped at the contact. Shoulders tensed as he shook, gasping, seemingly still unused to any touch. “Of…of course I am Mars.” Sun paused, teary eyes meeting Mars’ own. “You should… you should give it a try.”
He was right. Earth had brought them here to do just that, and Mars didn't want to come back to a disappointed look on his friends face if he just sat here doing nothing. He removed his hand from the star's shoulder, ignoring the way Sun leaned slightly, mourning the touch, so he could grasp at his own bat.
Scanning the area, he found a boxy television from a few decades ago sitting against the ground.
Mars readied the baseball bat, elbows bending and feet changing position as he swung. Hitting the television directly in the center of its screen and shattering the glass. The baseball back stuck to it, resting against the glass. Sweat beaded down his chin, dripping onto his clothes as he placed a foot against the televisions side, ripping the bat out and back into his hands. The rocky planet paid no mind to it, taking a step back to whack the television.
Again, and again, and again, and again.
His body moved as if on autopilot, moving on instinct as he swung again, the TV's antenna fell to the floor. Swinging again, part of the stand had started bending against the sheer weight of his swings as the bat rammed into it repeatedly, before it gave in, snapping apart entirely.
Mars set his sights on another piece of junk before he could truly even process it. Face lighting up as he observed a rusted old alarm clock close to his side. He paused, kicking the debris of the television set before striding towards the clock.
He breathed deeply, shoulders drooping as he swung, hitting the clock directly in the frame. It bent, creaking at the strength behind his swing, the frames glass shattered, sprinkling glass across his bat. The alarm went off–BEEPBEEPBEEP, the noises becoming more distorted the more the red planet hit it, eventually silencing all together.
Only once the clock was entirely decimated did the red planet move, head turning slowly as he set his pursued a different piece of junk.
A small desk rusted over and barely standing. Mars breathed, then exhaled, before making his way towards it. Aiming directly in the middle of the desk, putting enough weight in it to smash it in two. He barely waited for the resounding clatter before smashing it again, and again.
“Mars.” His name buzzed in his ear, the rocky planet ignored it in favor of swinging at a lamp, the broken remnants of the vintage clock long forgotten. The lamp shade bent, the lightbulb inside shattering instantly, bits and pieces of metal and glass landing between his feet. He moved forward, boots crushing the leftover debris beneath him.
“Mars.”
There was more, he could do more. Mars could destroy anything here, anything in this room with no consequence! The red planet didn’t have to fear the judgmental stares from the giants–or the looks of concern on the rocky faces, because this was allowed! He could destroy without any punishment, from himself or the universe.
He could be the one to take this time.
An uneasy grin made its way across his face, hidden by the safety mask.
He moved past Sol, whose own baseball bat had fallen to the ground–and whatever, that wasn’t Mar’s problem. If Sun had gotten cold feet out of nowhere, that wasn’t his problem. Mars didn’t have to worry about that here. Because in this room, he only had to think about one thing, destruction.
That’s what he was good for, it was in his nature. What with a name like his, God of war. God of all things reckless and brutal, whose domain wrecked every good thing and left a whirlwind of death of violence in its wake. It was all that was expected from him, and who was he to challenge that? He’d already seen the consequences of attempting to change his nature.
There was a piece of ceramic towards the corner, and the moment Mars set his sights on it he knew it had to be destroyed. It was an ugly thing, a deep shade of burgundy, a lumpy attempt at a sculpture.
Mars turned, bending his arms to move in a backswing motion when all of a sudden–his wrist was yanked, baseball bat clattering to the ground at the sudden movement.
“Ares.” Sun hissed, hand grasping against Mars wrist tightly.
He paused, releasing his other hands from their position above his head. Looking downward, to the arm that the star was holding, and froze.
Mars' wrist, that to his terror, had been uncovered during all the erratic movement. Revealing the dark, previously hidden beauty mark that seared itself onto him.
MOONPRECIOUS-SATELLITE
MOON
MOON-MOON-MOON
“Neiro.”
His face twitched at the memory, and Mars moved. Yanking his wrist away and taking a step back from the star as if he had burnt him and nearly snapping the glove in half from how quickly the red planet had tugged it back down.
Maybe he hadn’t noticed. The red planet swallowed bile that threatened to make its way back up. Stars, Mars hoped he didn’t notice. He averted his eyes, cringing at the cracks in his voice as he spoke. “S-Sun! Sorry about that, g-guess I didn’t hear you–”
“When.” He stated, not asked. The star's voice was dangerously calm.
“When what?” Act stupid Mars.
“The mark, Ares. When...”
“What mark?” Not that stupid!
Sun's face twitched, expression hardening and shifting into an unrecognizable emotion. The taller celestial took a step forward; Mars took a step back. His eyes trained completely on the planet as he spoke, voice border lining on hysterics. The feigned calmness seemingly shattered. “You planets and your lies. Always scheming against me, always hiding secrets. First Jupiter, then Poseidon, now you Ares! Everyone in this solar system has a secret at this point!”
Mars braced himself, trembling as he continued to step behind, his back hitting one of the room's corners. Sun didn’t relent, moving to grab at his wrist. “When Ares, when–”
Mars gasped, his trembling increased as Sun pressed his fingers against the beauty mark. “When did you lose a moon–”
…
Mars was alone.
It’d been centuries since the incident. Centuries since he had last left his orbit. There was no point in trying anymore. Not when there was no more Proto to sneakily tackle in his orbit. To toss asteroids back and forth for hours at a time as they droned on about imaginary scaled monsters and life.
No more Proto to playfight, wrestling and knocking the other Rockies into their roughhousing, until their star gently intervened. Pressing kisses to their hair as he deposited them back into their orbits.
There was no longer a celestial willing to listen to his fears. To calm him down as anger became too difficult to contain, to hold him as Mars fought the urge to destroy.
No, there were only bright balls of magma where his brother once was, shattered together with pieces of his, along with Theia’s cores. Shattered fragments hanging between them as their bodies bled and melted together.
Mars had lost his brother.
And his family.
Mercury was despondent. Too busy staring at the corpses of what were once Proto and Theia to pay any attention to him–and after the smaller planet's collision, he had been locked in orbit by the Sun. Venus refused to speak to him, to anyone for that matter. Mars knew he partially blamed him for Theia’s death. He’d told him through fistfuls of fabric as the two fought, only separated by Jupiter.
Jupiter, who no longer looked their way. He heard his moments in the asteroid belt, when he didn’t believe Mars or his moons could hear. But the red planet could. He listened as the grand giant sobbed in his hands, blaming himself for their deaths. Or Saturn, whose eyes had glazed over. Losing both his moon and planet in the same few centuries caused the now ringed giant to grow catatonic. Only roused to eat and drink by his lover.
Mars didn’t consider the ice giants as kin, which might be unfair. Uranus seemed more upset over Neptune’s disappearance in the Kuiper Belt over Proto and Theia’s death. If they didn’t care about that, didn’t care for the loss of two planets at the very least, then the red planet didn’t care for them.
And Sun. Sun, whose light fluctuated between overwhelmingly hot, to nearly freezing each second. Who went from raging, scolding the planets about their orbits to sobbing whenever he glanced at the remains of his two Rockies.
Whose once golden, warm light became overbearing to look at. The star was impossible to speak to now, solar flares snapping and hissing towards any celestials that dared get too close.
He had no one. He had lost everyone–until
A tug at his gravity one day, when he was just about to sleep. Barely there, unnoticeable if it were any other celestial.
But Mars wasn’t any normal celestial. He’s scanned his orbit before, making sure any asteroids were driven out. His system buzzed, head pounding as he twisted around his orbit, searching.
MOON-MOON-MOON
Mars turned to his right, glancing at the other celestials–who were still fast asleep. The buzzing grew louder; head being bombarded by ancient instincts.
SATALLITE-SATALLITE-YOUR MOON-MOON
He gets it, voice in his head, he gets it. His hand rose to rub at his forehead as he twisted about his orbit again, turning to the left and squinting at the small form.
She was tiny. Just the tiniest bit larger than Saturn' s smallest moon Mimas. Curly haired just like Mars, and her surface still forming. A greyish color, with red hues. She was perfect, and she was Mars’.
Mars moon. His first moon! The red planet hadn’t even been sure he could have one in his orbit, what with the asteroid belt being so close. All grief was temporarily forgotten, as Mars gently tugged the moon closer, fitting her between the palms of his hands.
MOON-MOON-MOON
He cupped the baby closer, voice barely above a whisper as he spoke her name.
“Neiro”
…
Mars hadn’t shown her to the others yet.
Neiro was small, she was fragile, still small enough to fit comfortably in one hand with room to spare!
Maybe this was how the gas giants felt whenever their moons formed. That suddenly the entire world was too big for their moons. That they had to shield them from the rest of the universe and keep them safe in their orbits. It’d explain why they were always so hesitant to let the Rockies around them when their satellites had just started to form.
He agreed with them now. The asteroid belt was so close, too close for comfort now. What if when she woke up, she’d start exploring it? There was a monster in there, he was sure of it. The creature hissed and yowled whenever Mars tried to sleep at night–he’d have to protect her from that.
Protect her from the universe that had taken his brother and sister just centuries ago. It couldn’t have her too, he refused. Tugging the still forming moon closer to himself at the thought.
…Maybe when she had finished forming and got situated in her orbit, he’d show her. When things calmed down, and a small semblance of normalcy returned to the System, if it could ever be normal. He could show off his moon to Venus and Mercury, who would be jealous of him being the first planet to have a satellite, and potentially bring her to Jupiter if the gas giant took his eyes off the asteroid belt for a few minutes. After Theia’s death, he seemed to double down on his job, rarely, if ever, leaving it unattended.
He didn’t count on the other giants. Saturn might sink further into his depression if Mars showed him a moon just after he recently lost one. And the ice giants… well they never visited. He wouldn’t make his way to the Kuiper belt just to show the clearly disinterested pair.
(It was irrational. The Sun would never hurt her, but he was reluctant to leave his orbit, besides, he’d probably get yelled at if he tried).
A deep, soft sigh paused his thoughts. He turned, moving to glance down.
Neiro had moved. Orbiting just a few inches closer to him than she was before. Mars blinked. He never had a moon before, but he’d just assume that was normal. She was still forming after all. Maybe her orbit just needed time to adjust? That was probably the case. He’d been similar according to Jupiter, him and the other rockies had moved into their current orbits.
She would be fine, Mars would make sure of it.
…
Neiro was getting closer.
It’d been a few thousand years since Mars had first discovered his small satellite, since the universe had gifted him his precious moon, and he was starting to grow worried.
Not on the happenings of the solar system. Since Neiro, he no longer had to focus on that. Had to focus on the grief and death, had to stare aimlessly at the remains of his little brother (which was now being orbited by Theia). He had his moon, and for the first time since before the accident, Mars felt happy.
Which was why he was concerned when she began to orbit closer, and closer. The tug of his gravity pulling harsher against her. He looked to the side, squinting down.
He attempted to scoot her slightly farther away, but her gravity didn’t budge. Mars smirked slightly; she was stubborn, just like him.
Her surface had grown spots of rusty red, similar to Mars’ own. With her curly hair becoming frizzy as it grew. But she seemed comfortable with the closer orbit. He hoped her own orbit eventually settled. Maybe then, he would reveal her to the others.
Not now though. Venus had been dealing with a greenhouse effect on his surface, making the planet grow snappier than usual. He didn’t want the other planet to snap at his baby–or Mercury, who was still recovering from the collision that stripped him of most of his mantle.
He’d wait until everyone recovered, till the system was stable to say anything.
…
Mars woke up to pain.
A core crushing, body splitting pain. A hazy band of rocks blocking his full view from across his orbit.
He couldn’t dwell on it long because–
Loud, pained, anguished cries coming from past his orbit, all the way from Venus’. His head snapped painfully from the movement as he checked side to side, moving upwards. Body maneuvering to deal with the threat, to protect his moon from whatever had hurt his brother. A quick scan revealing there was nothing. That no monster hadn’t made its way from the asteroid belt into Venus’ orbit while the planet slept.
Venus, who was already being held carefully in their star's grip, plasma dribbling down his chin and extinguishing before it could reach the largest rocky.
Adrenaline dying down, Mars glimpsed around his empty orbit, view once again blocked by the ring. Wait, empty?
Neiro.
Where was his satellite.
The red planet moved as if on autopilot, rolling down one of his sleeves–
and wailed.
…
His moon…His moon died. His moon crashed, and he hadn’t noticed.
“Mars.”
Was she scared in her last moments? Did she feel any pain? Stars damn Mars if she did.
“Mars.”
His baby was gone. She was gone, shattered to pieces, and it was all his fault–
“Mars.”
Warm, gentle hands cupped the red planet's face, stirring him out of his thoughts. Sun was now on his knees, thumbs catching the stray tears streaking down his chin. Eyes trained directly on the planet, expression softening as Mars made eye contact. “Oh, Mars.”
He hushed a pained whimper that came from the planet, taking it as a sign to draw him closer, pressing Mars against his chest, hiding him from the world. “I’m so, so sorry.” The star’s voice rumbled in a low whisper. Mars’s body wracked with sobs, the star catching his planet's fists before he could yank out his curls, moving to cradle the planet.
Muffled from his position tucked against the star, Mars could barely hear another bored, more monotone voice.
“...Your thirty minutes are up.”
The car ride back was a blur.
He remembered the blue and green hair of Earth. The way his feet swayed as he walked, how he nearly toppled over if Sun and Earth hadn’t been there with arms around his waist, gently coaxing the red planet back into the van, how Sun tugged him closer on the car ride back, having his head placed against the stars shoulder.
“What….happened?!”
“Explain….later……”
Mars felt numb. Like his core had been ripped out of his body, and left a broken husk. His brother was gone. His moon was gone. He should find Phobos and Deimos a better planet, one that won’t crush them into rings the way he did Neiro.
Neiro.
“It’s alright.” Thunder and skies rumbled, finger rubbing against the planet's back. Harvest and time remained nearby, a single finger resting against War's head, glowing brightly. No, it wasn’t alright. War wouldn’t get to see her, wouldn't get to hear her soft gasps and giggles from the sleeping moon as he bounced her in his orbit. Didn’t get to feel how her gravity gently tugged against his own.
“Asteroids,” Thunder rumbled. Large tears dripped down Time’s chin and splashed War, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. A lighter, motherly voice whispered from behind. “Oh Jove, I had no idea they could even reach his orbit.”
Asteroid.
They thought his satellite was an asteroid. War keened at the thought of reducing his baby to a rock, nearly collapsing if it weren’t for the two giants gravities wrapped around the smaller celestial.
He didn’t remember getting out of the car. Blinking sluggishly as Sun moved, being pulled and lifted up as a large hand rested against his back. The star's other hand moved to scratch his scalp. Mars leaned into the contact, whining as Sun shifted to open the door. Sun shushed him, pushing the door closed before making his way up the stairs.
“Let me know……need anything.”
Mars didn’t even understand how he was being held. On Earth’s surface, their star had been significantly weaker. Where did this sudden burst of strength come from?
He didn’t have time to think about it, before his room was in sight. The red planet shifted to move, to brace entering the empty room as– the star completely ignored it, Sun pushing past until he reached Jupiter's room turned his.
The star didn’t stop, even when his hands trembled at the weakness of his human body, not until Mars had been placed beneath the piles upon piles of covers Sun needed to sleep. The red planet grimaced at the sudden lack of contact, before the bed dipped.
Sun moved to the other side, shifting himself until he was against the covers as well. Hands returning and tugging against Mars, until he was flush against the star's chest. Warm fingers carding through his hair as the sun hummed.
A low, deep hum. The type to make his body rumble and melt. He hadn’t felt this way since before. Back when he was the first rocky, being lovingly inspected by the Sun as he whispered to the planet. Telling him he was his miracle, the stars wish, his first rocky planet. His sole survivor, Ares.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, or as comfortable as it could get. Neither spoke, and outside of the star's human equivalent to purring, it was completely silent.
“My baby.” Mars finally found the words to speak, making a wounded noise as the star stopped singing.
“I know, I know Ares.” The Star hushed.
“My baby.” Mars blubbered louder, fingers tightening around the fabric against Sun's chest. His body wracked with sobs, tears streaking down his chin. “‘....Sol, Sol, I want my baby, I want my baby, I want my baby!”
“I’m sorry,” The star murmured into his hair, the star's warm breath causing his skin to tingle. He placed his head against Mars’ curls, sighing deeply. “I’m so, so, sorry Ares.”
Tears stained the bigger celestial’s chest as Mars sobbed, Sun made no effort to catch them anymore, letting them flow freely. Allowing him to grieve properly. Something the star hadn’t been able to do, back when his marks were burnt across his skin.
The Sun hummed again. The loudness of it drowned out Mars’ pained cries. He pressed a kiss to his curls, shielding the planet from the world. The gentleness, the gentleness of his usually angry star left Mars feeling weightless. His body sank further against the mattress as the soft petting continued, long after he fell asleep.