His hand was curled tightly around the phone in his pocket. Although Ares had agreed to meet him, Phobos half-expected a last minute cancellation call. He was nervous and apprehensive but also a little bit excited. So many centuries had passed since he'd spent time alone with his father that he wasn't sure he wouldn't make an ass of himself.
Come to think of it - the last time he'd actually spent time with Ares without studying, analysing or worrying about every little detail, he was still small enough to sit on his father's shoulders. When he grew older, the light twin had tried to be as little of a burden as possible because he knew his father had enough shit to deal with on a daily basis and didn't want to cause him more grief.
To those few who knew Phobos it was no big secret that his loyalty belonged first and foremost to Ares and that his love for the God of War was virtually blind. Deimos, his twin, of all people should have known that turning against their father - betrayal of the worst kind - would only drive his twin away. If he hadn't escaped, he would have fallen apart right there and taken his twin down with him, erasing every single trace of their existence.
Maybe he should have. It would have taken care of a bunch of issues...
Ares' arrival cut that train of thought short. Looking up, Phobos felt the knot in his stomach unwind and smiled back. "Dad!" He hoped his voice didn't sound as shaky as he felt and that the relief wouldn't be taken the wrong way and that he wouldn't immediately break down and cry like a baby.
"I... had the waitress save us a table over there."