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Dionysus sat on the porch of the Big House, as the kids called it, sipping his Diet Coke. There were half a dozen demigods gathered on the grass lawn that he was trying to tune out, but his brother’s brats were certainly their father’s children, and they always had to be the center of everyone’s attention.
It didn’t help that their father was with them, seemingly uncaring of the grass stains he was getting on his pants and the absolute mess two of his children- Gabrielle and Jordan- were making of his hair in their horrific attempts at braiding it.
Apollo had a thick book lying abandoned on the grass next to him. Kylie’s head had taken its place in his lap, letting him play with the greek fire-green strands of her hair. Aiden was sitting with his legs thrown over his sister and his head on his father’s arm, while the other two sat on Apollo’s other side, Yam making much neater, much tinier braids with Will’s hair.
Apollo was still telling stories, clearly having gotten sidetracked while teaching them the actual mythos. He was telling them about something silly that Chiron had done when he was a foal. Dionysus hid his smirk behind his Coke can. As long as his brother wasn’t blabbing about his childhood.
He studied said brother discreetly.
Apollo looked- content. His eyes were sparkling, his voice was light, his smile was disgustingly soft. He looked truly, stupidly happy, in a way Dionysus hadn’t seen from him in centuries.
He’d gotten used to the smiles that were a little bit too big, the eyes that were a little too dull, the laugh that sounded a little too off. He’d gotten used to the Apollo that couldn’t be genuine if he tried.
Not that anyone else saw how insincere he always was.
He was Apollo. He was so loud he was impossible to ignore. He was completely shameless and entirely unapologetic about who he was. He was larger than life, even for a god. He lived for the spotlight. He made himself so bright he was blinding, so that no one could truly see him.
Apollo was an incredible actor. Dionysus could give him that. But there was only so much of himself that he could hide behind a mask.
Beneath it all, behind the act, Apollo had been falling apart. Dionysus had taken a little too long to see it, but he had been.
Going against his own domains like that, making himself into a spectacle for Olympus to gawk at, letting the spotlight eat him alive-
It was killing him slowly. It was tearing him up from the inside out. It was making him so miserable he was losing his mind.
Dionysus hadn’t noticed until it was a little too late, and he was constantly kicking himself for it. If he’d seen it sooner, maybe he could have stopped it from going as far as it had.
Or maybe not. He didn’t know.
He tried to bring him out of his head as much as he could, but the glimpses he got of the real Apollo were few and far between.
It felt like he had lost his brother, sometimes.
Dionysus still remembered the Apollo who had taken him under his wing when he ascended. Who had taught him how to survive Olympus, how to be more than human. Who trusted him with his most sacred oracle when he went off to Hyperborea.
Dionysus still remembered the Apollo beneath the act.
He’d gotten used to it, as much as he despised it. He’d gotten used to the hurt and the misery and the madness dogging at his brother’s heels.
He’d nearly forgotten how brilliant his mind was without them.
Dionysus couldn’t help but feel giddy. After so many centuries, he really, truly had his brother back.
Apollo had been falling apart, but now-
Now he was finally putting himself back together.
And if Dionysus knew Apollo- which he liked to think he did- then he knew that Olympus had something of a storm coming. Walls coming down, masks set aside, the mountain turning inside out and upside down. Nothing would stay the same. Change was on the horizon, rising with the sun.
Dionysus welcomed it. He’d seen what was beneath Apollo’s facade, and it was past time the rest of the world did as well.