His words make Amare frown in instant confusion- and suddenly feelings are boiling in his stomach. He knows this story all too well. And he...doesn't understand. What- it- is that man saying what he thinks he's saying? No, there's no way..this- it can't be- Amare grabs his own head. He can feel a head ache coming on, his brain is reeling from everything he's hearing. It doesn't make sense and-

It is then he notices the old man is holding out a teddy bear.

"An...early Christmas present?" Amare repeats in a soft, trembling voice. There is an awful sense of deja vu in the act. Something that Amare has seen before. 

The boy reaches out to take the present then stops. He hesitates- he's done this before. So very long ago when he believed himself to be a prisoner of a very powerful and fearsome God. That is, until the God offered him a doll, then suddenly the ferocious God did not seem so ferocious anymore. 

So, like he did once before, he accepts the toy. However no sooner does he take it, he swiftly grabs the edge of the man's clothes. Holding it in a death grip as he can barely believe what's happening. Suddenly, he finds himself filled with all the emotion in the world. Both wanting what's going through his head to be true and false all at once. In fact, he feels so much love- hate- fear- wonder- desperation- that the only expression on his face is neutral. 

It is then, with that neutral face that he asks with the most shaky of voices- one that is barely louder than a whisper. Mainly because it's such a despairing, aching question 

[i]"Who- Who are you?"[/i]

"You trusted me and I failed you, old friend, like everyone before, even [i]her[/i], in my way." Brontes replied, looking him straight in the eyes. He would be glad if he hit him. Hell, he could throw him into the darkest pit of the Underworld if that redeemed him in his eyes.

"I am sorry Amare. Not for betraying our kind but for not saying something. I'd never put you in danger by taking you with me but still, you deserved to know." Brontes said as he instantly shifted into the form he had on Earth, a form he hadn't used for a long, long time.

"I watched you so many times, always happy unless no one was looking. So happy I sometimes forgot of your suffering and for that I don't deserve you. This is goodbye old friend."

His plan had been ready for quite some time now and all that was left was to try and make them understand, to try and make amends with all of them and of course, Amare would be first. He mattered more than the rest of them together except for [i]that[/i] one perhaps. But Brontes hadn't seen her in ages, much more talked to her.

At first Amare just stares- he doesn't believe this is happening. It's..him. It's- oh gods, it's really him. After all this time, Brontes...really- really did come back for him. He can see it now- not the face but the eyes. The eyes that belong to The Lonely God- His Lonely God. Finally...7,000 years and...he's here...just for Amare.

The first thing Amare does after processing this, is pull Brontes to his level and punch him in the face. 

Amare can't help but hold back a smirk at Brontes's look of pain. Obviously The God of The Underworld wasn't expecting a punch in the face to hurt from a fourteen year old. Then again, Brontes doesn't know Armarion taught Amare to fight. Good, he deserves it.

[i]The boy can punch[/i] Brontes thought as he felt the strength behind his hand, much more refined and targeted than the last time he had been punched by him a few days after they had met and were still learning each other.

However before Brontes can really process what happened, the boy immediately wraps his arms around the man. Holding him tightly- as though the God would disappear if Amare were to let him go. For a good minute, Amare says nothing, before eventually he whispers, quite childishly:

[i]"What took you so long?"[/i]