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Hyperion Montgomery (hyperioniam) wrote in vrrpg,

Andrew stayed where he was in the kitchen, holding Evie as he watched the reunion. Guilt and anger and resentment all began blooming in him, emotions he was far from comfortable with. Guilt because he realized then that he should have looked to see if Harold was missing from the magical world, though it had never occurred to him because he'd never used any of the unique magical world language. Anger because it was his birthday, and though he wasn't a vain person by any means, he was feeling a bit cheated. And resentment because even though Harold hadn't raised him, he was the best father figure he had, and now he was going to have to share him with even more people than just Phoebe. He didn't like or want those type of thoughts in his head, though, so he forcibly pushed them away.

He should be freaking out, Harold thought. He should be doubting this young man's words, but it had all been so genuine, and he couldn't fathom any reason for him to be lying. There was a whole list of questions he wanted to ask, but the didn't seem important in that moment, not when his son--his son!--was coming over and hugging him. Harold hugged him back firmly, clapping him soundly on the back. "Aye, I am. I've no idea who I was, though. Near total memory loss, ye see, couldn't even tie me own shoes," he explained as he pulled out of the hug. He didn't go far, though, his hands holding onto Hyperion's upper arms. "Let me get a good look at ye, then."

Total memory loss, the words echoed in Hyperion's head. "But ye remembered some things. Ye named her Phoebe." He realized then, though, that he hadn't said his own name. Had Andrew told them his name? "I'm Hyperion. My sisters, they're Pandora and Persephone. And my brothers..." he paused, his voice choking up a bit on the word as he brought a hand up to rub it over his lower jaw. "My brothers, they were Apollo and Perseus. And yer Heracles. Heracles Muiredach Montgomery." His tone and his eyes begged him to remember, to be back fully.

There was so much pain, not only in the words Hyperion spoke but in his eyes as he spoke them, pain that Harold--Heracles, apparently, and wasn't that something?--couldn't fathom him having had to endure on his own. He hoped that he hadn't, that he'd had support through it all. "I believe ye--I've got eyes, don't I?--but I don't remember. I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. And it was the god's honest truth. He wished he could remember.

"Why don't we all have a sit down," Lara chimed in, her voice quiet yet firm. "Andrew, love, was the food saved, or should we order in?" She was still holding the boxed cake she'd picked up for Andrew's birthday in one hand, Phoebe secured against her side with her other arm.

"We'll have to order in," Andrew answered, speaking for the first time since they'd arrived. He turned to ZJ then. "Could you take her for a minute?" he asked, holding Evie out. He had a sudden urge to bring out the whiskey even though it likely wouldn't be fair to ZJ or his mum, but he knew he needed a bloody drink, and it was his birthday, so he felt justified.