Who: Poseidon and Amphitrite What: The pissy couple returns home. When: Late Sunday night, January 2, 2011 Where: The Rubis' penthouse Warning: Language
Things were different already and Poseidon wanted to thump someone in the ass for it. They'd hardly spoken to each other on that ten hour flight back home and yet all he wanted to do was yell at her. In a two week time she'd left, sucking the air right out of his lungs for thinking she wasn't coming back. He'd have raised more hell than that if she hadn't. Now she was tarnished, not the bright jewel that he'd held around his finger so tightly. This was enough to push him roaming the bar for a new set of legs to skirt under, but he didn't.
If he were honest with himself he was forced to take a look at himself and all the women whose broken dreams, futures he'd ruined by his own forceful hand. He wasn't honest with himself, he wasn't about to slap himself in the face with compassion because of a few bruised women. His woman however, that was a whole new can of worms.
He'd cleaned himself up before heading through the airport and customs, the flight enough time to recharge at least enough that he wasn't laying on his back like a dead fish. Yet, all she could do was give the cold shoulder. He wasn't going to understand it, and he wasn't going to try. The duffel he'd brought with him was thrown against the wall in a fit of rage once they came inside. It hit the wall with an odd clank.
"You shouldn't have left. Don't even think of doing that again," was all he could do, throwing her a warning finger.
Snatching the bag up he opened it to find the item inside that he'd neither given nor thrown away once in Greece. That was laughable. He left it on the living room table after flicking a few lights on.
It was true that she hadn't spoken a word to him. But it was only because anytime she had attempted to show any affection had been pushed off. She had tried holding his hand more than once shortly after taking their seats, had even tried looking him in the eye but he seemed to refuse to look at her. After the plane had taken off she had fallen asleep. She hadn't woken up when the flight attendants went around with meals, nor when a kid behind her kicked her seat. She had practically passed out, only waking when it was time to get off the plane. It was sleep she hadn't had in days, sleep she needed.
Even if she didn't know Mara and couldn't trust her Amphitrite felt a strange rush of loss when the other woman left for her own ventures. She wanted another female presence, if only because she didn't want to be alone with Poseidon. She knew what was coming and she knew he was going to yell and rage at her, but that didn't help in the slightest. She wasn't ready for a fight. She couldn't fight back.
When he threw his bag she backed up instinctively into the front door, slamming into it and almost knocking the wind out of her from the force. She had no response for him, but inside she did agree with him. She would never, ever do this again.
She forced herself from the door and walked into the living room where she saw the necklace. A shaky hand picked it up and there was a small amount of affection wash over it, though nothing significant enough for her to do anything. All she could think of saying was a faint 'thank you' but she was still terrified of speaking. Nothing she could say or do would be good enough for him. She knew that. She walked past him, muttering something about a shower and disappeared upstairs where she hid in the solitude and warmth of the water.
He was angry but who it was directed to could be up for grabs. He didn't like what had happened or how it had affected Amphitrite. He didn't like that he hadn't felt something wrong before this. Where she'd gone had been so obvious, what had stopped him from going sooner? Poseidon had been too shocked that she had even the nerve to leave him and like a child he'd raged over his things being taken from him. What she had taken was far more valuable than anything he owned, his heart, and he wasn't going to let her get away with it.
He paced the room at the bottom of the stairs when she retreated towards the bedroom, visibly shaken at how this had all turned out. It ran through his mind to leave her there, to be himself and distance himself further. There was the side of him that just couldn't, that needed to be the attentive husband instead of the stray. He hadn't been able to look at her because it only further clarified that he hadn't been there to protect her.
Once he heard the water stop and her shuffling around he made his way up the stairs, not nearly as affronted as before. It was her fault, he'd blame her continuously, but it wouldn't stick. He stood in the doorway leaning against the frame as he watched her.
"I didn't feel it. I should have been able to tell something was wrong," he finally spoke, his eyes finally casting on hers since they'd high tailed it out of Greece. The blame was hers but he was admitting his own part.
She had stayed in the shower for a long while. Just as she had back in Greece, she scrubbed until her skin was almost red. If she had kept going she probably would have bled. She just couldn't get clean enough. It had made her so angry and frustrated that she had leaned against the wall and slid down, pulling her legs close to her and sobbed into her knees.
Truth was, she hated this. She hated the affect this whole experience was having on her. What she wouldn't give to have her old life back. She could have just shut up and gotten over Poseidon's unfaithfulness.
When she finally did get a hold of herself she felt a small rush of relief at being clean again. Inside, not so much. She dried herself off and when she heard his voice she gave a little start. She knew he was there but it still scared her a little.
She kept telling herself that the worst that could come from him was being told off and receiving warnings, but it didn't help. Her mind was still clouded with the events of the last week and she wished bitterly that she had been killed instead of enduring all of that. She would have come back stronger and could have broken their necks on her own.
Finally looking at him she wasn't sure what to say. Not as weak and stumbling over herself she crossed the bathroom and pressed herself against him, feeling that protection she had been craving all week. Even now it was clear how terrified she still was because she was shaking head to toe, though it was far less noticeable now. Bruises, both in odd shapes and ones that looked like fingers, could still be seen though they were fading now. "You're right. I shouldn't have left. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Her voice cracked and she just wanted him to hold her. That was the most contact she wanted for now.
I'm sorry.
That's what he'd wanted to hear, as if it put him back in power over her, proving that she'd been stupid in skipping town. There was no relief however in those words, and he sighed heavily before feeling her against him. He didn't want this for her as much as he didn't want to deal with it. The fact that he'd showed, taken this mission upon himself to retrieve her should have been a slap at how much she meant to him. Poseidon loved her and she knew it.
His arms wrapped around her, warm and strong where she was shaken. If this hadn't happen he had to wonder how much longer she'd planned on staying away. "I was too late." He'd still lost in the end.
She did know it. And she hated that it took her leaving, being kidnapped and then raped for him to realize she was no longer gone willingly. She hated that it took what he did for her for her to realize how much he loved her. If she meant nothing to him he would have left her there. Amphitrite knew him better than anyone.
The warmth and protection that came with him was more relief and comfort was almost more than she could handle. But she stayed put. She didn't move away once she received what she needed. She simply stayed and let him hold her. "I wasn't." She meant shooting that bastard in the face. As much as Poseidon didn't like seeing her weak and not the feisty wife she was just days before, Amphitrite had absolutely hated seeing Poseidon being beaten up. Shooting that mortal was more satisfying than anything in the world. And she didn't regret it. There was no remorse.
"I want to get away. Let's go to Hawaii. Now." At least she was trying to be herself again, even if she didn't feel it. Away from work and the hustle and bustle of New York they could heal and recuperate.
Poseidon's reaction to women that fled from his affections or his grasp was to do exactly what Amphitrite had been forced through. He held no remorse for those things, but when it was her there was a kick in the gut. Poseidon had never been more than a rough hand to her, he had never taken it that far. Consciously, he didn't care, but Amphitrite knew he could be that cruel. That's what he didn't want her to do, because it would put her at a distance from him. It was cruel fate that this had befall her, as if to shove in his face his own lusty sins.
"You should have left me there." He was angry that she nor Mara had listened to his warning. It had taken three to four men to hold him down, but when he was weak there was little he had in giving back. He still wasn't sure as to what had negated his energy, but he'd find out in time.
He stroked her hair, letting his fingers slip in and out of that silky dark mane. "In a few days," he replied softly leaning against the wall with her still in his arms. It wasn't long before he slid down that wall, his energy still here and there. His leg still hurt, which had they been in Ancient times wouldn't have lasted. He didn't like feeling so old in his powers.
Amphitrite's voice was quiet, though she still felt insecure. "No," she said in practically a whisper. "Between not wanting you to go through what I did and needing to get back at him, I couldn't do that." This was the most open she had been since their encounter in his office. Only this time she wasn't threatening to leave. She wouldn't dare do that again.
She knew it was a strange request. But the truth was that she needed to be away from this city. In her heart she felt it was New York that had changed him. Yes, it was true that over the years he had changed in various places but they had been here the longest. If he could be like this with her for a little while then maybe she could push past this.
She allowed him to take her down with him, where she curled up as though a little girl seeking the comfort of her parent. Had her mother been around she would have sought solitude and a hiding place with her. She was playing idly with her ring finger, not really aware of what she was doing because she had done it so often before. Her wedding ring had been taken. The one thing she fought to keep and that bastard had taken the one piece of Poseidon she had originally fallen in love with.
"I thought you were playing me the hate card?" he asked with a light smirk despite the rather precarious situation. She probably never suspected he'd come at his own will either when he had lackeys to do his bidding. His head rested against the wall, knees drawn up and arms idyll on his knees. One hand still brushed through her hair, soothingly.
It was the longest they had been in one place, long enough to make him turn a bitter cheek instead of just being her husband. The last decade had been a testament to that.
When he lifted his head back off the wall he noticed her hands and that empty band from her finger. He pulled her hand away, thumb rubbing across the empty skin. "Where's your ring?" he asked not able to mask that gruff annoyance.
"No, I..." She couldn't explain it to him. It was impossible. When she saw him again she was so overcome with joy that in that moment she had forgotten all of his wrong doings. But even her joy of seeing him again didn't take away that overwhelming desire not to be touched in any way. She had even kept her distance from Mara, though that could have been for any number of reasons.
She could have been a child again, seeking comfort and compassion. Unlike a child, she was scared of things children should never have to think about. Even though she had watched that mans face take a bullet, his body writhe in pain as his organs began to shutdown, she still had this horrible feeling he would walk in the door.
It was strange how she had somehow thought it was still there, or maybe just her mind playing tricks on her. And then the memory of it came back. Her face betrayed the memory as she remembered the struggle, "He took it. It's the only thing I tried to save, but he... he got it... I don't know what he did with it." There were bruises on her wrist and even the hand itself seemed tender. Her finger had been jammed in the struggle. She was lucky it hadn't been broken.
This was difficult for Poseidon to watch, and in that moment Mara's words rang in his ears clawing at his brain. His legs lay back on the floor, his other hand flattening atop hers. That ring had been on her finger since she'd agreed to be his bride. It was created from a stone deep in the ocean. The fact some louse used it for nothing more than what price it would fetch was as unsettling as the situation.
"We'll get you a new one," he promised her. Not only was he not the powerful god of days past, but seeing her so meek unnerved him. He dared to be closer to her, his hand running along her bruised cheek.