InsaneJournal

Centuries upon centuries of guiding mortals transitions from one state to another, of reading their paths in cards and dreams and myriad other signs, and still there was mystery to the process. There would, always, be mystery to the process. It was how it should be. You could help a mortal by lighting a path but you could not lay it out for them and push them down it no matter how much you longed to, because the simple fact was that as soon as you did that, it was no longer their path.

Still, when someone was stuck, that didn’t mean you just had to wait.

Kaden was stuck. And because Kaden was stuck, Marcie was stuck. She was trying to free herself, Hecate was watching her do it with quiet pride, but Kaden… he’d dug himself deep into the Enodia and didn’t want to come out—

No, not true, he wanted it – he'd chosen the dandelion root, something deep within him knew he was a survivor – but he was afraid to want it, as though life was an insult to his brother’s death. Hecate knew he’d reached out to Qebhet and it had gladdened her heart, but as soon as he’d stepped foot back on New York soil he’d withdrawn again. For a long time, the only person he’d reached out and held onto had been Clementine, and Hecate couldn’t tell yet if that relationship had the power to heal him or if it was constant salt rubbed into an open wound. He did genuinely care for the little girl, but it wasn’t Clementine Hecate was worried about.

He needed more people in his life. He needed to see more of life, or he was going to lose the ability to see anything past his own pain. Hecate wasn’t sure which direction would suit him best— and it wasn’t up to her to know, as much as people came to her for guidance. People had to make their own choices.

But it didn’t mean Hecate couldn’t throw things at him. See what stuck.

On the day of Marcie’s job interview, Hecate invited Ariadne around. Served tea, and plenty of food, and invited Kaden down to her room to eat and to play with Clem and to meet a friend. He’d looked at Ariadne with wonder at first, a look that was ramped even higher when Ariadne told him who she was, and then when she’d explained that she was a therapist, and that Hecate had told her that Kaden was looking for someone he could talk to, he’d zipped up like a sleeping bag.

Ariadne had continued to be gentle and warm and funny enough that it didn’t feel like she was going out of her way to make him laugh, and Kaden had sat there stiff as a board, and Hecate guessed the only reason why he didn’t get up and walk away was that he knew he’d promised Marcie he’d talk to someone. He’d signed a contract. And thought he really, really, really didn’t want to talk to some stranger about all the shit in his head… he’d promised Marcie. She could practically see that promise screaming reminders at him.

So Kaden hadn’t run. He hadn’t opened up one iota, but he hadn’t run. And they absolutely had not decided to meet up again for any kind of official session, but it was also, absolutely, not a step backward. Hecate had watched Kaden watching the way Hecuba plodded up to Ariadne, licked her hand in one long stroke of her enormous tongue, and sat down on her foot. Hecate watched him make a mental note that Hecuba liked her.

Hecate counted that as progress, and considered who else she could throw that might stick.