Mason’s Bar
Mason’s Bar was everything the Blind Tiger wasn’t. It was a hole on the outskirts of Seattle. Surrounded by parking space for lorries. The highway was near enough that you could just still hear the roar of heavy trucks passing over them. It was an urban wasteland. Concrete and asphalt and old industrial buildings as far as the eye could see. Its pink neon sign outside has been flickering for as long as Ares could remember now, which was only five years. Yet he was certain it had flickered for a lot longer. Inside the place had no charm. No personality. The floor was cold concrete and the old, plastic chairs had none of the venerable age the wooden chairs at the Tiger had.
Inside music played but nobody danced. Everyone but the two guys who played pool in a dark corner sat down. Drinking beer, looking at the TV or their phone or nothing. Despite being lit well enough, the bar felt dark. It was a place where you wasted away some time until you had to leave again. It was only slightly better than standing outside alone. At least this place served beer. Lukewarm beer if you were unfortunate though.
Ares, in his custom fitted suit, stuck out like a sore thumb. He didn’t matter. The bar was practically his. Nobody inside interfered as he sat down. The barman came from behind his plastic, classless, pink-neon lit bar to put a bottle of beer in front of Ares before going back. And then Ares waited.
Hathor had planned to join her pantheon at Little Marjoram that evening to relieve the stress that had built from the nightmares, the Conclave, the unknown information on Hephaestus’s death, the nervousness on showing her true feelings, and now the situation with Tlaz but that is not where she found herself. Instead of standing before the wonderfully decorated building of Imentet’s shop, she was under flickering pink neon, curling and uncurling her fists as she tried to repeatedly remind herself that Tlaz wouldn’t want him broken beyond all repair, seeing as how her best friend was falling for the man despite the predicament. Hades also might not appreciate one of his men torn to shreds and having to watch to see if the God of War could stitch himself back together. There were also mortals to consider as jail was not the preferable option.
She took a deep breath, tucking the straightened tresses of her hair behind her ear before tugging the leather jacket she wore closer to her frame and finally taking a step forward through the entrance. Boots clunked against the concrete floors, her foot falling much less gracefully than usual as she stomp forward, obsidian eyes glaring darkly as they locked onto the man sitting at the bar. The one that had called her to this very location for reasons she couldn’t possibly fathom but it got her closer to her goal so who was she to complain. The destructive and all consuming rage she felt when she first learned the news of Ares kissing one of her most precious people, only to have her tossed aside as a mortal already held his heart, returned with vigor at that moment. Hathor had planned to sit down, get answers and maybe punch his face in one or two times but that plan moved out the window instantaneously the second she caught sight of him. She just prayed she had enough control to stop herself once she started, keeping in mind that those two didn’t want to see Ares harmed to the degree she could unleash.
She didn’t even give him a moment to react to her presence or speak, her fingers roughly lacing into his dark locks, a tingle of power rushing through her hand before swiftly shoving or more slamming his head into the countertop of the bar with a sickening crack. Hathor took the probable confusion and amplified pain she had inflicted to her advantage to kick out the chair legs from under him. She glared down, death possibly more inviting than her stare as she spoke with venom in her voice,
”You’ve got a lot of gall, calling me out for drinks after the fucking bullshit you’ve pulled.” She took a few steps back to pace, ready for him to fight back but trying to keep herself together, not to black out in rage.
Her body was already shaking, fear running through her from the wrath swimming in her veins wanting to be unleashed but there was also that familiar pleasure she got from punishing those that deserve their fate. He had bought and paid for it the moment she had to hear Tlaz hurt over being a second choice or even possibly being a second choice. He was not being fair to Tlaz or his mortal. In her mind, he was being a coward and that was not a word that stuck well with this God. She wanted to know why. She wanted to know information….and there was a perfect way to get someone to talk as well as get some sense into them. The shaking stopped, her resolve hardened and she stopped restricting herself or giving into fear. She paused in her pacing, her eyes locking onto him as they sparkled with blood lust, a sadistic grin etching it’s way onto her features as she gazed into his eyes.
”I am going to teach you a lesson, one you will never forget. I won’t stop until it engrains on your soul and you understand every single word I speak.”Quite slowly Ares got up, with his open hands up and arms outstretched. Showing Hathor he wasn’t fighting.
“Let’s all just…stay calm.” He said, but inside his heart was raging. Blood trickled from his nose. The hit on the countertop did more than just daze him. The pain seemed to wake him up. Made him realize he had been sleepwalking for the better part of five years. Only when he fought was he truly, fully awake. But he couldn’t. As quickly as he felt it, he made it disappear again. He couldn’t unleash it. Not here. Not now. His eyes carefully trailed towards the mortals all around. Half of them were ready to attempt to drag the ‘crazy bitch’ away. Ares had noticed the shaking though, and it stopping as well. Anyone who touched her would die.
“Steady guys.” He said to the mortals.
“I think you should leave now.” The mortals looked at each other for a second, then nodded and walked out. Leaving only Hathor and Ares.
“Let’s just… all stay calm.” Let me stay calm.
“We can talk about this over a beer.” Of course, it could only be about one thing. Tlaz. The vexing question that tore him to shreds now. His breathing remained ragged, but he was making a real effort to slow it down, and calm his heart. No matter what, he couldn’t allow himself to wake up. So he almost desperately begged Hathor just needed to vent something before sitting down.
The mortals had long been forgotten during her fit of rage, her attention solely on Ares. She watched every small movement he made, like a lioness stalking its prey and ready to pounce. The others were meaningless for the moment in her eyes but at least they were now out of the way, just the two of them remaining. Ares could take what she dished out but mortals were a lot more vulnerable and accidents could happen. Hathor wanted him to attack, wanted him to be riled up so that this would at least be a worthy challenge but so far she was greeted with disappointment. He was speaking, the voice feeling distant and far away but his body language said he didn’t want to start anything with her. It just irked her more, to see him acting so pathetically weak. What happened to the God of War? What happened to fist first and talking later? What happened to the Ares at the Conclave who pulled guns?
Hathor stalked forward, her powers rushing through her as her frustration grew.
”Ooohhh, now you want to talk? Huh!?? It’s a little late for that don’t you think or have you just been so far gone that nothing matters!?!, she growled, grabbing one of the chairs and tossing it into a nearby wall in his direction.
”You left her! You left her even after saying what you said and doing what you did!?!”, she hissed, grabbing the front of his shirt to yank him into a punch to the face.
”She made herself vulnerable and you used it before abandoning her with no explanation!”, Hathor added with another harsh punch to the other side of his face.
”And worst of all, that isn’t even what makes you a goddamn coward!”, she spoke dangerously before harshly shoving him backwards to create some distance.
”No, you don’t get to sit down and talk with me, God of War. I’m going to make sure that every tear she shed is a notch out of your hide. I’m going to get my answers from you and anything I don’t like is going to be met with more blood.” Dangerous didn’t even begin to describe what was happening. Ares felt the pain surge through him. Like his skin and flesh underneath was burning. It had been so long. So long since he felt this good. His mind awakened. Everything appeared distant now. He even laughed as he hung on the bar, blood dripping from his split lip.
“You should stop this.” He said with a massive smile on his face. His blood was already heating up. Fires were being fanned. In his mind it felt as if light was piercing a dense fog. This brawl, it could not continue. For both their sakes. For everyone’s sake. Yet he wanted it. So, so badly. He fought the next words:
“Or I’ll have to start fighting back.”Fury bubbled over within her, the limit to her patience reached by not only his lack of acknowledgement in her words but also telling her that she should stop before he decided to fight back. It was laughable but proved that it would take a lot more than words to get through that thick head of his. If he wanted his ego to get knocked a few pegs before begging for forgiveness or giving her some decent answers then that was fine by her. It would be a pleasure to show him exactly why some wars were lost but how destruction always reigned supreme when it was brought forth. She would demonstrate why it had taken all have her patheon to stop her last time. This time, no one would be there to save him if she took it too far and right now, she was tempted.
”You can try.”, she stated with a simple sweet smile before rearing her leg up, placing her full body force forward and spartan kicking him directly into the edge of the bar with every intention to try and break his back or making it excruciatingly painful.
The kick broke the bar. An audible crack came from where Ares’ back hit the cheap plastic, slamming into the hard concrete behind it. The neon lights in it snapped, instantly making the bar look darker and taking away the last bit of color it had. Yet Ares never dropped his smile. Even though he knew he was bleeding from wounds suffering on his back. The pain was good. It was what he needed right now. For a second it felt as if his blood boiled, but then that warmth spread through his muscles. He shouldn’t give in. It was dangerous…
But he needed it now. Suddenly he felt more alive than ever. His heart didn’t beat as feverishly before, but it was beating strong in his chest. Every pulse it sent his strength around. That lethal concoction of painkillers and the strongest stimulants in the world coursed through his veins now. Called for Ares’ addiction to resurface. Slowly, he wedged himself free from the broken bar. Bits of concrete fell down. It sounded so clear.
A dash, a punch. Explosive movement. Straight towards Hathor. Aiming from her stomach. Shoulder locked, one step past her. He wasn’t trying to hit her. He was trying to hit through her and throw her backwards.
She knew there would be retaliation, that he would start to fight her but she had not expected him to come out of the wreckage quite like that. It gave her little to no time to block the oncoming punch so she didn’t. It should have been painful, it should have irritated her that he landed a punch in any part of her person but instead, she found herself laughing and filled with joy as Hathor laid among the debris of a broken table. She rolled her body onto her shoulders before springing up onto her feet into a fighting stance. She shrugged out of her jacket, tossing it to a random side of the bar and letting it be forgotten. Finally! Finally, he was being serious and open so that she could tear down his walls bit by bit as he was broken bone by bone. Hathor didn’t want a mask of himself. She did want to deal with Alex. She wanted to fight, ruin, and destroy Ares. He had just made it possible.
”Now we are getting somewhere.”, her eyes glittering with her amusement and a twisted grin locked into place on her face, ready now to turn his hits and strength against him.
For a second Ares breathed out slowly. Trying to calm himself one last time as Hathor threw her jacket away. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t! No. He was in too deep already. Those eyes of Hathor. He recognized them. He had seen them in a mirror far too many times. That inner voice, the one he had buried underneath the words of what he thought was the love of his life, came crawling up to. Whispering those sweet promises in his ear. Not of salvation or forgiveness or redemption. They were whispers of hatred and the fall. Promises that things could only improve if he gave in. If he fell. If he hit his lowest point and gave in to the basest animal he was.
Ares answered Hathor by grabbing a chair and throwing it straight at her. He followed the piece of furniture quickly. Dashing forward with a right hook ready to hit her square in the face.
Hathor swiftly batted the chair out of the way with her right hand while her left one came up, palm flat out as she pushed his punch off course and she tilted her head to make sure it was avoided. She could have taken the opportunity to punch back, the shot open but his face was already beautifully bloodied and she wanted to make sure every inch of him felt pain. Instead of taking that opening, she grabbed his shoulders and brought her knee up solidly into his gut as a punishment for the punch to her own before working to do a roundhouse kick, hoping to land it into the side of his head or at least land it to create some distance again. It was harder to deflect up close and personal which meant taking some punches while changing tactics to hit his vulnerable spots with precision instead.
Ares took the knee to the gut. His abs screamed. He didn’t care. Pain was muted. The voice continued. More. More. More! The roundhouse came. Ares weaved under it. Then stepped in closer. He’d give her no quarter, no space to move. Right hook, left hook, right hook. He pumped up the pressure. Ready to weave around her attacks. Eyes not burning but focused. Looking for gaps.
She hissed at the counter attack, the hooks gathering in strength and force with each hit. She needed to get him out of her personal space so with growl, she waited for the next incoming punch, wrapping her arm around his own, yanking him forward to slam her head into his nose before roughly kicking at his kneecap and swiftly backing herself away. She needed to be careful how close she let him get and his arms needed to be taken out when the opportunity presented itself. For now, she needed to do a lot more than hits since it wasn’t going to affect him much. She spat out some of the blood pooling in her mouth and kept her defense up.
Ares had to stop his relentless onslaught as suddenly Hathor locked his arm. The headbutt was unexpected. It hit him right in the face. Though it didn’t daze him. Wounds on his face began to bleed through. He was in time to see the kick and turned his knee. Hathor’s kick fell on the side of his knee. A pang of pain shot through unmuted. Making him wince for a second. Before his mind sealed off that receptor as well. His body was screaming out, but it was distant. Unimportant.
Ares didn’t relent though. Every time he got pushed back, he came in close again. Keeping his guard up. Defending when he had to, or tanking the hits from Hathor as they came. Blood and sweat stained his shirt. Some hits from Hathor caused pain to shoot through him, unmuted, like a bullet. Though he kept up the pressure. Staying close. Fighting back. Hathor hit him more than he hit her but he could take it. It kept him focused and pushed away those others' thoughts. Yet every time she nearly broke an arm or a leg, there was a second of distance between them. A moment of respite he desperately did not want. Every time he fought to get close again. To have his mind singularly focused on one thing: breaking Hathor. He rolled away, dodging a femur-breaking stomp from the goddess by an inch. Distance again. His mind wandered towards Hathor’s words. Coward. Tlaz’s tears. He left her. The thoughts caused him to shiver as he came up close again. Again their sparred. Fists blocked. Palms deflected. A knee cracked one of his ribs. Blood began to flow from the both of them. It wasn’t enough. Every time she nearly broke a bone, her words began to cut him. Until he couldn’t bear them any longer. He burst into a charge, ready to grab Hathor and break her through a concrete pillar.
Hathor was ready for the sudden charge this time, waiting for him to get close before jumping up and using Ares own shoulders to push herself up and over his body so she was behind him. She swiftly turned to face his back once more, using his own momentum plus her body weight to shove him into the very pillar he was planning to use against her. She brought her leg up to keep him pinned, both hands tightly grabbing his wrist in an iron steel grip and yanked his whole arm harshly backwards, continuously pulling the full force of her strength until she heard the satisfying pop before backing off. She had no doubt that the wound she had dealt him would be handled eventually but for now, he was down a limb which meant she had on less obstacle.
His arm hung limp. Coldness gripped it. Wrongness gripped it. The pain, even numbed, was feelable. Like a glow radiating from it. Telling him it was all sorts of wrong. He didn’t care. Hathor made a mistake. She gave him space. Distance. With one hand he grabbed his limp arm. His teeth were clenched, and yet through them he roared as the sharp pang of pain shot through him. But with his arm set again, he could move it at least. It would hurt like hell tomorrow, but in Ares’ mind there was no more tomorrow. This was the end.
“It’s not fair...” He whispered. His breathing ragged. Ares looked down at his own hand as he tried to close it in a fist again. As he opened the balled fist again his fingers were shaking and a tear dropped onto it.
“My life… was finally good. I was finally...happy.” His voice was shaking. It sounded exhausted. Not just physically. He felt the reins of his mind slip, and no matter how hard he clutched, they didn’t stop getting away from him. He closed his fist again. His eyes looked up but his head remained downcast. He saw Hathor, and a faint smile crept along his lips.
“You wouldn’t understand it...would you?” He said with a taunting, arrogant tone.
“Always loving. Never loved…enough.”Hathor leaned back lightly against one of the tables they hadn’t managed to break, wiping some of the blood from her face while biting back a hiss from the bruising as she listened to Ares speak. She acted like he wasn’t a threat but while her body may have looked relaxed, she was ready for him in case he decided to pick up where he left off. His words weren’t confusing to her, the conflict clear but in her opinion he was blinded before, living in a fantasy. The reason it wasn’t fair was because he was in the world real once more and he wanted to hold onto a fantasy. She didn’t have a chance to speak though as the next words he spoke were barbed. A dog lashing out to bite because it was convenient and because it was a wound for her. One that when taunted, utterly infuriated her and it wasn’t hard to notice. She hadn’t hid how her love life had been and how sensitive a mark it was.
She already felt her muscles tense, her hands slamming down on the edge of the table and gripping it as if for dear life. Hathor met his gaze, hatred and anger swirling in their depths as she wanted to wipe that smile from his lips. She wanted to tear into him but if he wanted to fling barbed words then two could play at that game.
”At least I don’t live a lie.”, she growled out before continuing.
”Tell me, does your mortal know you? The real you? All that you are? Could you be certain she would accept this?”, her hand gesturing up and down to the way he appeared right now before her.
”You haven’t given all of your heart….if you can’t show all that you are and have them accept you anyway with all your flaws, then you are living a lie and fooling yourself. How many times have you lied to her? Do you even feel guilt for what you are doing to both these women by being a coward? By not being honest.”“Every day.”
“But she accepted more of me than my entire family ever could!” How could she understand? He was going to tell her as well. Tell her everything. His divinity. His domain. All of it. Before he would ever think of offering her the ring he was now subconsciously fiddling with in his pocket with.
“And someday I would have to stop lying to her.” That he knew in his heart. His face turned away.
“It should’ve been her I saw.” But it wasn’t, and if he didn’t know Aphrodite’s trick for many centuries already, he would’ve believed she just spun some yarn. The problem was that he just lied again. There was one person he never had to hide himself from. One person who accepted him in every way. His oldest friend.
He was losing himself in his own thoughts again. Now he couldn’t fight it anymore. Everything he felt and knew would refuse to go away again. But that voice whispered in his ear again. If he could not push it away, flagellation would numb the guilt and the pain and the weakness. Another grin formed over his lips.
“But of course you’re not lying are you? To yourself…about Hades.”The words that he just spoke were ones that drew her back to what Tlaz had told her. The words that he had spoken to her that day were ones that gave her a sneaky suspicion but being confirmed to be correct, made her heart jump. Tlaz wasn’t like her. She wasn’t a second choice. It was a harsh reality that Ares had to face and come to terms with. Hearts have always been a fickle thing. The question was, was he going to let a true chance slip through his fingers or not? Love was something she could help other people see and sort out. It was part of who she was and maybe she could help him figure this out.
Her thoughts froze when Hades was mentioned, her gaze sharpening as she removed herself from the table to kick her leg back, letting the sound of wood crashing against concrete echo. She stalked forward, reeling her hand up and slapping him viciously across the face.
”It would do you well to hold your tongue before I cut it out.”, she hissed before slamming up against a pillar and holding him there.
”I don’t lie to myself, Ares. That is all you deserve to know.”, she stated coldly. Hathor had never lied to herself about her feelings. She knew that for a fact but his words still set her off and made her blood boil because while he hadn’t hit the right mark, he still was able to remind her that she had been being a coward same as him but just in a different way. Ares didn’t want to see that he had come to a fork on the road on his path of life. Hathor had been sitting continuously at a crossroad, afraid to choose the wrong path and not be able to turn back.
She had kept her feelings locked away from others as much as she could and hadn’t spoken them to Hades because of that fear but Tlaz had made her realize that she was done sitting at the crossroads. If she never tried, then she would stay longing which wasn’t pleasant. She had her heart broken before and had been able to place it back together. The problem was that she cherished his friendship, just as much as she wanted him to love her. Hathor had realized though that even if she was rejected, she had to put her trust in Hades just like she always had. She needed to trust that their built friendship would still be there even if things didn’t go as hoped. It was why she had made her decision on what path to take. Now, Ares needed to get his shit together and make his because unlike the time she had been graced with, she wasn’t going to let him have that much time. He needed to figure it out because she never wanted to see Tlaz hurt like that ever again. She deserved someone worthy of her and she was going to make sure that Ares proved himself or got lost.
With Ares’ shirt finally so tattered that it fell off his shoulders, it didn’t just reveal his stone-chiseled body, but also the faint red glow burning in his chest. And Hathor could see it grow. He didn’t answer her, instead aggressively shoving her off him before he grabbed the furniture around him and started to throw it at the goddess. Tables, chairs, anything that wasn’t bolted to the floor ended up being thrown. Either to be destroyed at Hathor’s hand, or broken against the wall. The fight continued. Both sides interlocking. Hathor continued fighting and keeping her distance. Ares kept getting close but dropped his guard. Hits landed, bruising his body. Steam rose from the wounds, healing and sealing them. He stopped blocking the goddess, and instead launched into a flurry of kicks and punches of his own. His body turned bloody and bruised but healed again and again and again. It screamed out. He ignored it.
His assault was reaching its peak now. Ares found the gaps in Hathor’s defence. Fist and kicks began to land. Until finally the god of war broke her balance. With a bullrush he managed to send her flying through the bar. Hathor slammed into the wall and the pool cue rack falling from the force.
She winced when her back and head came in contact with the wall, her body crumpling and sliding down as cues tumbled the ground along with her. Her back ached, a dark bruise probably building under the skin but luckily, nothing appeared to be broken as she carefully moved onto all fours. Her feeble mortal body screamed at her to stop from all the various cuts and bruises she had received but she shook that off, the thought of ‘it will heal’ setting the desire to halt aside. She took deep breaths, trying desperately to calm herself once more as she was playing a razor edge of trying not to take it too far. She had kept it to mostly hits and trying to break bones but right now, he was royally pissing her off and aggravating her. Hades and Tlaz cycled through her mind, but even that wasn’t quelling the need as it had been earlier. A shiver ran up her spine at the thought of causing him true harm, the clawing beast she forever kept locked away begging to show him more. It begged to be set free, lose who she was, let the wrath and destruction reign so he could see just how worse it could be.
Hathor’s eyes drifted to the pool cues scattered about, that flutter of excitement gripping her as she thought again, ‘it will heal’. She felt the slip in her control, the world becoming hazy while she curled her fingers around the smooth wood of the cue. She stood slowly as if in a daze, her fingernails cutting into her hand at how hard she gripped the cue but it wasn’t even acknowledged to her. She moved it out horizontally in front of her, her free hand coming up to grip the other side before slamming the middle section down on her bent knee to break the instrument in two. Now having two sharpened ends to deal damage with, the thought and need to make him bleed was the only thing in her mind at the moment as she paced from the side of the pool table she had landed behind to his.
Hathor picked up her slow, almost lazy pace, to charge forward at full force but instead of slamming into him as he had done to her or even drop kicking into his chest as she might have done earlier, she moved into a slide and deeply stabbed his thigh with one of the broken spikes while moving past him. She rolled, flipping herself back onto her feet before thrusting the second spike into the shoulder, not as deeply as the first but good enough to bleed before slashing down to drag diagonally across his back. The flow of blood paused the thirst for a moment, the nagging feeling of guilt crawling up as she tried to remember why she should care if her prey was badly hurt or not. Why feel bad at all? Why should a predator feel bad for taking what it needed? A cheshire grin split on her face, ready to strike again and seeing how he dealt with a joint being attacked when she paused right before breaking the skin on his shoulder.
Everything loudly screamed to back off so she moved away, listening to the instinct and placed her hands loosely over her ears with the weapon still in hand. She tried to focus, shake away the haze and remember what she was doing and why she was here. Why was she here? Protection. It was always to protect, but who? One of her precious people…..the female…which one…..Tlaz….that’s right, she had been hurt. She was trying to make Ares see reason. She felt herself gripping control again, shoving the haze a little further away and got back in defense. She had given him too much space while she was gaining control and with what she just did...the result couldn’t be pretty.
The god of war had been forced to his knee. His body felt as if it was ripping itself apart. The open wounds healed, but never fast enough and never without more pain. Pain that was no longer dulled but at the same time didn’t seem to matter. Blood streamed from the open wounds as he once more rose up. The fire in his chest kept growing, but he knew he was reaching his peak. Slowly he hauled himself upright, holding on to a broken piece of a concrete column.
“So much…blood. For something you don’t understand.” He said, sounding full and truly exhausted. The pain really did help make things clear.
“Never the one to break hearts. Always the one to get broken.” He murmured that more to himself than to Hathor. But then he did look up to face the goddess.
“You know how much that hurts. I bet you wouldn’t wish it on your worst enemy. Then why are you wishing it upon a mortal who never did anything but love?”He didn’t want to break Julie’s heart. She didn’t deserve that. Two weeks ago he wouldn’t even have thought about it. Now…the accursed pink smoke screwed everything up. No… No not just the smoke. It wasn’t that simple. He had to know. And he knew, from the kiss, that what he saw was true. That kiss burned still inside of him. A beacon towards what was right. What he had to do. Hathor was right. He was a coward for not going there, but despite what everyone said, he wasn’t cruel either.
Hathor looked at him, her face calm even though the emotional wounds of her own heart were bleeding. Yes, she had never broken a heart. Yes, her own had been broken time and again. Did she pity the mortal for what she was going to feel? Yes. She was not cruel. It gave her no pleasure to see that hurt on another. However, with her experiences came understanding and this was one thing she knew to be true.
”I do not wish it on her to be cruel. I wish it on her to be kind. Broken hearts can be fixed. Betrayal and broken promises create wounds so deep, that they do not heal. They can be sewn and patched but just a fragile prick, it all comes spilling back. If that pain isn’t enough, then it’s the future they poison. Will this one do the same? Will this one be fake? Can I trust him? Ares, no matter how you look at it….you have already betrayed her. She doesn’t know all of you and you can say you will tell her one day but if you haven’t done it yet…it’s hard to say when you will find the right time. She has shown you love which is a gift but she is loving only a portion. You have kissed another, someone who has already seen and accepted what you are as you are. Can you say with fact that you would not do it again or want to? Am I wrong? Your mortal, deserves someone that will put her first and be able to fully hand over his heart to her. Would you deny her that? Would you allow Tlaz to believe she is second best?”He couldn’t help it. His body surrendered to the inevitable as he sank through his legs again. Hathor had extinguished his fire. Leaving him with nothing but pain, regret and sadness. There was nothing left to fend off his demons. Nothing left to protect him. Another tear fell from his eyes. Then another.
”NO!” He yelled as he slammed his head back against the concrete pillar. He could hear a dry crack from behind him. A wave of sickness washed over him. HIs stomach shrunk to nothing, making him feel as if he had to vomit. His eyes wandered. Taking in, for the first time, the full devastation the both of them had wrought.
Everything on the inside of the bar had been reduced to rubble and splinters. Only a handful of lights still flickered. Broken cues laid scattered around. Many of the coated in Ares’ blood. Concrete was reduced to broken stone and dust. In his mind he could retrace every step they had taken as if it was a choreographed dance of violence. Where had hit her, where he hit her. Every spat of blood he could tell whose it was.
It didn’t stop the tears from flowing freely now.
“I was happy.” He sounded meek. Hathor kept talking about the mortal. About Tlaz. How he was harming them both. She was right. She was right about it all. He was poisoning Julie’s future. But at the same time, his heart was already broken. It had been shattered for three days and he couldn’t accept it. Not then, and he desperately wished the goddess hadn’t forced him to accept it now. Yet she had forced his hand and now he was reduced to sobs. His eyes looked up at the ugly, grey ceiling.
“I’m sorry Julie. You deserve someone better than me.”She watched him break and crumble before her. Guilt and sorrow weighed on her heart as she watched in silence. This is what she did. This is who she was but...it wasn’t all of who she was. Hathor stepped forward, leaning down to gently wrap her arms around him as a mother would to comfort a child. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes tightly, preparing herself for what she was about to do. The familiar rush of power flowed through her as she held him, this time not to amplify or harm but to sooth. She wouldn’t take his physical pain, her own body was already objecting too much for that but she could give him a reprieve from his emotional pain. It would give him a head start to fix his own heart before having to do the hard task ahead. Hathor felt tears spill down her cheeks, that crushing pain of having to hurt something you love. The guilt, the broken, and the horrible emptiness that came with his turbulent emotions. She let go of him, walking away to a random portion of the bar to kick away the debris and retrieved her leather jacket before slipping it on.
”Go...and make ….this right, Ares., she sobbed, the tears never stopping even as she exited the building.
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