WHO: Klymene & Prometheus WHEN: Less than an hour after the light returns WHERE: Prometheus' studio WHAT: Checking in
She'd wanted, so badly, to get to him during the hours of darkness. A grown man thousands of years old Prometheus may have been, but sometimes Klymene looked at him and all she saw was her little boy. And even when she didn't see that little boy, she saw the skinny man tied to the mountain and screaming in agony. (She'd never seen that for herself. By then she'd been a handmaiden on Olympus, a polite word for her forced slavery to those who were her lessers. Had she her freedom, Klymene would have gone to try and rip those chains free herself. But even though Klymene had never seen her son's punishment, she had nightmares about it far too often and woke in distress, sweat pasting her clothes and sheets to her skin.)
So in the unnatural darkness, it was to Prometheus that Klymene desperately wanted to go. Had Iapatos been with her maybe she would have risked it, but alone Klymene didn't dare face the streets.
But once that veil lifted, Klymene was out of her apartment and making her way to Prometheus as quickly as she could, parking the car in front of his building and then not-quite running to the door. She banged her open palm against it a half dozen times, calling through the steel. "Prometheus! You need to open the door and let me in!"