WHO: Much, some godmodded Will Scarlet, Hecate WHEN: Saturday 8th of January WHERE: Brooklyn WHAT: Much doesn't know what to do WARNINGS: Twitchy miserable Much
Drink your beer, Much, Stutely had said. As in, shut up, Much. Shut your goddamn mouth.
And Much had, cos he didn't wanna cause any more problems. Even when the others started in on Marian (on Marian?!?) and Much's protective drive shouted to the surface and he wanted to yell at Tuck so bad, don't you dare tell Marian to shut her mouth! To yell at Stutely, what the fuck do you mean 'what the fuck, Marian'? Everything Marian was saying made perfect sense to Much.
Her fear, his own fear, it all made perfect sense to Much. And what did Stutely and Tuck want them to do? Turn it off. Shut it up. Swallow it down and smile and say oh, cool, we really are ignoring all the evil in the world to play happy families, are we? Much had spent a lot of the last few months shutting up his fear and swallowing it down but when someone else told Marian to do it he'd gotten really pissed off.
He'd told all this to Will, pacing back and forth as he drank his beer. "I would LOVE to ignore all the evil and play happy families!" he'd yelled at Will. "That's not how the world works!! It doesn't go away cos you want it to! Apollo doesn't go away cos we want him to!"
"Don't yell in my face, dickhead," Will had said, looking annoyingly cool. Sounding annoying cool too, like he always did when he was about to point out Much's problems. "How much of this is about Marcie?"
How much of this was about the woman he'd watched Apollo almost kill, slowly and painfully and awfully and unfairfully, who was now back in the city with a teenage boy who was also hiding from gods who'd kill him slowly, painfully, awfully and unfairfully? A bit. A bit of it was about them. Much glowered and muttered into his beer.
He wanted to get blackout drunk, that night, but he wouldn't let himself. A couple of angry beers and a lot of angry pacing, and enough angry ranting till all the anger drained out and all that was left was the root of it, worry and fear and the ever-so-familiar knowledge that there was shit-all he could do about anything.
He knew what he was supposed to do. He was supposed to apologise to Stutely and tell him that he was thrilled for him, but Much was so shit at lying, so... he left it. He knew he shouldn't leave it, but he did.
Instead, he had a strong coffee and sobered up as he walked across town toward Cobble Hill. He closed his eyes as the warm golden air greeted him when he pushed through the door of wood and glass, and he said hi to Kit at the front desk who asked him if he'd seriously been out walking in this weather, and he'd managed a real life grin for her. "You want me to tell her you're here?" she asked, and Much nodded, and lingered by the desk watching people come and go, till Kit said "Yeah, go on, go up."
Much took the stairs, up and up and up, till he walked into Hecate's office and slumped down on the chair. "Hey," he muttered, and she frowned and leaned against her curtainless window, dark sky behind her as she watched him, waiting.
"Stutely's having a baby with Clio," he said. "Did you know that? You should know that."
"I know that," said Hecate. Candlelight picked out her facial features, but her hands were hidden, tucked somewhere within her soft layers of black.
"Okay. Duh, yeah, course you did. She said it on her journal. So everyone knows. Doting uncle Apollo knows. Cool. It's cool. Just wanted you to know that. That new connection there. Just keeping an eye on things, you know."
"Thank you, Much."
"Okay," Much shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets, and pulled out a Twix, and then a 3 Musketeers bar. "That's for you," he said. "And also Kaden. Just. If you see him."
"He's down in the dining hall at the moment," Hecate commented, slinking over as quiet as a shadow and making the Twix bar disappear. "You could take it to him."
"Nah. Nah. This is his place. Nah. I'm not trying to buy him with chocolate, or anything. I'm just reporting in. Keeping an eye on the gods, you know. Just had an extra chocolate bar. Thought he might as well have it. Growing boy. All that."
Her smile was soft in the candlelight. "Thank you."
"I don't know how we're going to do it," Much blurted, in a different tone to which he blurted everything else. "Keep them all apart, I mean. Apollo finds people. He found Clio. He found me and Marcie in that cafe. This city's a billion people thick but it's not, not really, not when it's him. They shouldn't be here. They shouldn't even be in the States. They can leave. They should go to England. A lot of Twix in England. Or Australia. Far far far away. Across a lot of ocean. That's the best way to do it. Separate them with a lot of ocean. That's the best way."
Hecate sat down on the edge of the desk, a little closer to him. She smelled of earth and frost and chocolate. "It's one way," she said. "But not the best."
"Which way's the best?"
"My way," said Hecate, breaking the Twix in half.
This didn't seem to invite further questions, even though further questions were very much something Much had. But maybe after all he only had the one question, the same one he thought over and over and over, all the time. Are they safe are they safe are they safe.
"Okay," he said, getting up. Still all twitchy, but he didn't have anything else to give. Just information she already had and chocolate she didn't. "Okay, if I hear anything else, I'll let you know."
"I know you will," said Hecate, to whom Much had bought every whisper and mention of Apollo for months, ever since Marcie went to Burlington and told him to keep an eye on things. He'd even brought her dreams, in case they were omens. Once he'd come to her after the sun had shone badly against a glass door and made him walk into it, in case that was a thing. He'd texted her two weeks ago when he thought a raven had been watching him.
There was just... nothing else he could do. About anything.
"Okay," Much said again, standing up, and nodded quite a lot. "Bye then."
"Goodnight, Much," Hecate said, and Much, still nodding, backed out the door.