It wasn't until she at least acknowledged that she was willing to talk about it that Prometheus sought somewhere to rest his legs. Admitting that he was not back to himself after the experience in the Underworld happened to be the least of his problems. That did not mean it wasn't a problem. And his weariness extended to more than the Underworld. As he sat down against the wall, head leaning back slightly, he wondered why. Just because Eos asked him to? He'd been more disdainful of her before, less aware of the games she tried to play. Was she playing a game now? He always thought his next question would tell him the truth, but none of them had been conclusive to him.
"You were never easy with me, even when you were a child," Prometheus said quietly. "Because you were angry with me. Hated me, disliked me, loathed me, whatever the phrase might be. I'm not talking about the degree of feeling so much as I am the source of it. And the source of this particular feeling was... that Dolos lived with me, and you didn't. You were separated, split up."
Patience.
Had he used all of his up on her brother?
"And I was part of the problem, part of the reason that you weren't together. I'm one of the people you blame for your division from Dolos. You couldn't stand that you were apart, but..."
Now he hesitated.
Go for it, and if it doesn't work out, the backup plan is still in place.
Heh.
He had a feeling it was going to work.
"...what was even worse, what made you hate the situation even more, was that he liked living with me. That he saw me as a father and I saw him as a son. We were close, and time that he could have spent with you was time that he spent with me. It started out as jealousy and turned into hatred of me. Of your parents. What you should have been angry about was being separated from your twin. But now you were so fixated on blaming me, on blaming your parents, that you couldn't stop yourself from saying that everything would have been perfect if not for Erebos and Nyx and Prometheus."
Almost, he lit a cigarette. It was all he could do not to sound smug. Working it out in his mind had been the easy part. Of course there were details he'd probably missed - things that might not affect his conclusion, but were important to her. And then there might have been nuances he left out, and those nuances were the worlds in which Apate's self-delusion was going to live on if she kept this up. She would dispute verbage, misunderstand, misconstrue as she had before. If she wanted to persist. If she wanted to continue blaming him for something that no one, least of all Prometheus, could fully control.