FicWad

She waited patiently until Phil left the room, trying desperately not to give away her intentions. When his foot steps had faded down the hallway, she quickly changed the TV channel, turning down the volume as she did so to ensure Phil wouldn’t hear the change. She’d been doing this since they’d returned from New Olympia almost 3 months ago. She couldn’t help it, even though she knew that for some reason it drove Phil crazy.

The TV screen flickered as a line of static danced up the screen, but the picture was clear enough. She could see the purple-haired man on the screen, recoiling as he threw a javelin. She couldn’t hear the announcer with the low volume, but she knew what he was saying. She’d seen this one before. “The Achilles completes another flawless throw. Is there any record this high-spirited young man can’t break?” He was all over the news these days, Archie ‘the Achilles’ King. The rising star of the little known, or thought of, original Olympic sports. It seemed to her like that day in the New Olympia Coliseum had been a catalyst for his career, even though most credible sources now accredited the events of that day to contaminated water. It had been a catalyst for something inside her too, although as yet she wasn’t entirely sure what. All she knew was that she’d never felt the same after that day, and she wasn’t entirely sure if she’d ever feel the same way again. Seeing that purple-haired boy on the screen always brought the strange feelings inside her to the surface for her to examine, although she still hadn’t decided if that made her feel better about the whole situation or not. But like a moth to a flame, she found herself unable to look away from the strangeness inside her, no matter what damage her actions did to herself. And she could guess at why her actions bothered Phil. She’d been so distracted since they’d come back home, it must have felt like he was now living with a different person.

She sighed, looking away from the TV screen. Maybe she should stop this. It wasn’t fair to Phil, or ultimately, to herself.

“Him again?” muttered a voice behind her. Atlanta felt a spike of fear and guilt run up her body to Phil’s voice. She suddenly realized that she’d been so wrapped up in her thoughts, she hadn’t even heard him enter the room. She turned around slowly, feeling the weight of Phil’s silence pressing down on her.

His eyes were waiting for her as she turned around, unspoken accusation weighing heavily in them. She felt herself wilting under his gaze, a very unusual feeling for her. It made her feel uncomfortable, like she was a little child. But she couldn’t meet his eyes to challenge them, she knew she was at fault. She averted her eyes and struggled to get out a word. “I… Phil…” He didn’t say anything in response to her struggles, but instead came to sit wordlessly on the couch next to her. His silence felt more like a punishment to her than any angry words ever could. He continued to say nothing, and when she could no longer take it she looked up to meet his gaze. But what she saw there sent a chill down her spine, but only because she’d never seen an expression like the one she saw now on Phil’s face. She’d never seen him look defeated before. Phil, perhaps sensing her shock, looked away from her eyes for a second. His eyes fell over the TV screen, which Atlanta had failed to change. The purple-haired man was now giving an interview, and judging by his hand gestures he was talking about his leg brace, which essentially was his claim to fame.

“What do you feel when you see him?” Phil asked suddenly, his voice guarded and eyes carefully turned so Atlanta could not see them. His question struck Atlanta like a slap across the face, and she sat speechless. Phil did not turn to her to encourage her to answer, and for a while they both sat in an anxious silence.

“I… I don’t know Phil” she said finally “I don’t know what I feel.” But as she spoke, the surprise wore off, and she found the familiar feeling of anger welling up inside. What right did Phil have to ask a question like that? The way he phrased it, you would think he was accusing her of cheating on him. “Why would you even say that Phil?” She demanded, pushing her anger over the feeling of guilt welling up inside. “I meet this guy for a total of 10 minutes, and you act like I’m having an affair with him.” Phil said nothing, but slowly turned from the TV screen to look at her. His eyes and expression were guarded this time, but she couldn’t wash the image of his defeated face from her mind. When he continued with his silent expression, she lowered her gaze again and replied weakly, “I’m not even taking the program there.”

“I never thought this would happen again.” Phil said suddenly, looking away from her. It seemed like he was saying it more to himself than to her.

“What?” Atlanta demanded. She didn’t like the way he was acting. She suddenly felt like he had this secret going on inside himself that she was not privy to, something he felt he couldn’t trust her to hear. It made her furious to think that Phil could still treat her like that, even after all the time they’d been together. This was something that happened between new couples. By now, they should have known all each other’s secrets. “Jesus Phil, it’s not like I’m choosing him over you or something!” She exclaimed finally, frustrated at his lack of expression. After she said it however, she couldn’t help but feel like it was a mistake. But she couldn’t put her finger on why, it didn’t seem like a very spiteful statement. Then suddenly Phil let out a short, bitter laugh. He looked straight at her, and the sadness in his eyes startled her.

“But you did Atlanta, and you will.” He exclaimed, then his features softened and he seemed to be looking past her for a moment. “And I guess you were always meant too.” He said quietly.

Atlanta felt confusion take over her anger. She still wanted to be angry at Phil, but she found she couldn’t hold her fury while looking into his eyes. He looked so sad, so defeated. But she still couldn’t understand why. In the wake of her silence, Phil said quietly, “You feel different, don’t you? Since New Olympia.”

“I… I guess.” She muttered, trying not to meet his eyes. The truth of his inquiry scared her. In fact, everything happening at that moment scared her. Phil’s strange reactions, his distant gazes, his questions, the whole experience. She could only helplessly reflect on how normal this morning had been, to lead to such a strange set of events.

Phil across from her sighed, and looked down to his feet before looking up into her eyes again. “I’m sorry Atlanta. I never should have hid this from you, I should have told you the second I saw you in Victoria.”

Now she was scared. What was Phil confessing? Had he cheated on her and never told her? What else could he be so serious about.

“I… I hope you can forgive me when all this is over.” Suddenly he placed both of his hands on either side of her face, and while her mind was still ringing with confusion, his eyes suddenly took on a goldish tinge. She had only a second to contemplate the change, before the thin veil which had been lying between her and her unusual emotions was abruptly lifted away, and it seemed like two separate consciousnesses collided in her mind. Strange images flooded her thoughts, images without attached emotions or sound, like watching a silent film. A ferocious man-bull was chasing her through dank underground tunnels; Tearing a withered apple from the hand of a man clinging to a floating tree, only to have it spring back to life in her hand; Staring face to face with a towering man that seemed to be made of stars, facing him down with a flimsy arrow drawn on her wrist. Then the emotions started bubbling to the surface. Slowly at first, and out of sync with the images. Like a digital video playing on a slow computer. Hunting with two clumsy boys, then a monster charges out of the woods at her, and she’s saved by a brown-haired boy on the back of a griffin. Wonder; She was looking down at a running track with the same brown-haired boy, watching a purple-haired boy complete a course. Admiration; She was sitting in a movie theatre, yelling at a man sitting behind her, while the same purple-haired boy was sitting next to her and telling her to calm down. Anger. Then words started appearing in her head, like wisps of smoke whose shape changes just as you manage to focus on it. Fighting on the floor of an arena with the purple-haired boy, before being lifted off the ground by a well-built youth. Anger. Herry; Ducking as a golden-metal bird swopped over her head, a blond-haired boy clutched in its talon and screeching in terror. Determination. Neil; Watching the purple-haired boy paddle ridiculously on a kiddie’s flutter board, wearing an oversized lifejacket. Laughter. Archie.
Archie.
With that last thought, she found herself back in her room, Phil’s hands still on the side of her face. He was looking at her face, worry mixed with sadness in his eyes. She looked at him, and found she felt like she was looking at him with two sets of eyes. But it felt like neither one was in focus.

“Are… are you alright?” Phil asked quietly.

She didn’t respond to his question, but slowly pushed him away. She looked around the living room of her familiar apartment, and wondered at the strangeness in which she now saw in the familiar setting. It felt like a part of her had never been here and was seeing it for the first time. And then slowly realizations starting washing over her mind. Archie, Jay Theresa, the Olympic Gods. She remembered a life without them, growing up in her small town BC. But at the same time, she remembered them now, with images and emotions that were as clear in her mind as her life without them. Two lives existed simultaneously in her mind, it was beyond confusing. Then she noticed Phil was still looking at her his eyes questioning and weary. But suddenly her new knowledge came forward. In one part of her mind, this was Phil, her boyfriend of 3 years. In the new part of her mind, he was Pan, demi-god of the forest.

“Phil…” she asked slowly, unsure if her words would still sound the same. “What’s going on?”

Phil looked away from her face as if he were ashamed, and replied “I restored the memories of your previous life.” The old part of Atlanta would have found this ludicrous. But for some reason, the new awareness in her wanted to know more. “What do you mean Phil?”

He looked up into her face, and she was struck with how guilt-ridden he seemed. “I gave you back the memories of the life when you fought Cronus. Zeus entrusted me with them.”

“But…” Part of this seemed to make sense to her, but something was off, something didn’t line up with her new memories. “Why would we have forgotten everything? What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” He asked her quietly.

“I guess not.” She replied, trying in her mind to run through her new memories for something that matched Phil’s scenario.

“You did your job too well.” Phil replied sadly. “You went to the past during the war of the titans, and warned Zeus about Cronus escaping in the future. So Zeus prevented it, and the Gods never had need for seven mortal heroes.” Something Phil had said struck a chord with her new awareness. Suddenly the images and emotions of that instant came rushing forward to her. She saw herself on that stony crag, looking at Zeus larger than life. Everyone else was standing with her, as abruptly they realized that preventing Cronus’s escape would mean they would never meet. The last thing she remembered from that moment was looking at Archie, his expression almost terrified. It made her realize something else too. Everything she was feeling, seeing, was real.

“Pan, how could he do that? How could Zeus just abandon us, after everything we did for him?” She exclaimed, feeling anger rise in the back of her throat. Then suddenly she realized that she’d called him Pan, not Phil. And he seemed to have noticed too, although he wasn’t saying anything. He’d looked away from her eyes again.

“It was to protect you. You were never meant to need your memories again, the Gods wanted you to have a happy life as normal mortals.”

“But-“ suddenly she realized something was off with everything that was being said. Something that was more important then figuring out what Zeus owed the seven for their help. “Pan, why was Cronus in New Olympia? Didn’t we prevent his escape?”

“You did.” Pan replied quietly. “But then he escaped 10 years later, when we thought we’d prevented all threats from him.”

“What? But then shouldn’t we be there? Why haven’t the Gods contacted us?” Atlanta exclaimed. As she spoke, Pan looked back up at her and replied quietly. He almost sounded like he was scared at who might overhear him. “He kidnapped the Oracle Atlanta, he made sure this time there would be no prophecy.”

Atlanta took a step back at this news. She couldn’t believe how devious Cronus was playing. “But… then why did he attack Archie and me?” She muttered.

“Who knows.” Pan replied weakly “Revenge?”

“But then we should know! We can’t protect ourselves if we don’t understand what’s going on!” She exclaimed, feeling her anger coming back again.

“I know Atlanta, but Zeus has forbid it.” Pan replied, still avoiding her gaze and the accusation that was waiting for him there.

“What?”

“He’s doing it because he remembers what you all sacrificed to help us last time. Without a prophecy, he believes this is a Gods’ problem for the Immortals to solve. He doesn’t want you all involved.”

“But Pan, that’s crazy!” Atlanta exclaimed. “We can’t just pretend like our other life never existed!” Then suddenly something struck her, like a realization crossing from one consciousness in her mind to the other. Pan seemed to notice this change, and looked up at her.

“Pan…” she started slowly, unsure. She knew her question would be like opening Pandora’s Box. But like Pandora, she found herself unable to stop herself. “Are we… were we… how did we end up together?” His eyes went wide, and he immediately looked away from her again.

“Atlanta, I’m sorry-“ he started, but Atlanta cut him off. The more she thought about it, the more subtle realizations were combining in her mind to form a larger picture. A picture she found herself disliking more with every thought.

“You knew, didn’t you?” She injected, her words becoming sharp. Pan flinched as if her words had hit him physically.

“Atlanta I-“

“No, you knew. You remembered our old life. You started going out with me knowing everything. All this time…” She couldn’t stand how he was looking away from her. She wanted him to face her, to receive the full brunt of her accusations. “Were you planning on living the rest of our lives without telling me?”

“No Atlanta-“ He tried to get a word in, but Atlanta wouldn’t let him.

“What does this mean to you anyway Pan? Is this some kick for you, after I told you no when you wanted to live with me? You’d get your way because poor old Atlanta didn’t remember the rejection?” The more she yelled, the more upset she became. Not just anger, but she felt betrayed. It felt like Pan had been taking advantage of her in her naïveté. Suddenly it felt to her like a whole portion of her life had been a lie. Like she’d been living a joke without knowing how many people had been laughing behind her back.

“Atlanta it’s not-“ Pan stammered, but Atlanta didn’t want to hear any more of it. She was starting to feel sick to her stomach over the whole situation. She looked down at Pan one more time, perhaps a small part of her hoping she would change her mind. But seeing him just made her feel worse.

“I need some time to think Pan.” She exclaimed suddenly, turning away from him. He reached out for her arm instinctively, but she saw his movement and pulled away. Pan seemed so shocked, so hurt, she could see he didn’t know what to do. He was frozen looking up at her. Atlanta took one last look at him, and rushed across the hall and out the door without looking back. Then Pan was left alone in his living room, hand still outstretched to where Atlanta had been a moment before.

On the TV, a line of static moved up the screen as the purple-headed boy threw another javelin.

***

The light in the hall flickered, casting strange shadows down the hallway as she carefully slid her key into the lock. The light had always been faulty. She remembered it flickering on and off on the nights when she and Phil would come home late from the Green Alliance meetings. But even though those memories had all been happy, the thought of them now only brought a sick feeling to the pit of her stomach.

She’d spent hours wandering up and down the streets of downtown Victoria after Pan had restored her memories. Her new memories had driven her to seek out her familiar spots in the city, as if she needed physical assurance that her old life hadn’t only been a bad dream. However, everywhere she went she was only reminded of how different everything now felt to her. She was no longer her old self, and the more she walked the more she realized that she could never go back. It was around then that she decided to move forward. If everything Pan said was right, and she was the only one who had her memories back, it was her responsibility to find everyone else and protect them. If she could get everyone together again, she felt certain that everything would work out. And she would start back in New Olympia, where Archie was. And a little part of her was glad that he was the one she’d discovered first. She could imagine them both having a good laugh over how they’d fought Cronus together without having a clue who the other one was.

However, after she made this decision, she stayed on the streets of Victoria for some time. Atlanta, fierce hunter of the Olympic Gods, couldn’t get over the image of Pan’s defeated face looking up at her. She was afraid of seeing that face again if she went back home.

Now that she was here, back at her apartment in the middle of the night, the key made an awfully loud noise as she turned it in the lock. She cringed a little inside as it locked into place, certain that Pan would be waiting for her on the other side of the door. But as she slowly pushed open the door, the kitchen beyond was dark. She could feel her senses probing in the dark as they did when she was hunting, but she couldn’t sense another person in the apartment. Confused and cautious, she moved into the little hallway before her kitchen, and closed the door. The lock made a horribly loud click as the door moved into place, but no one leapt out of the shadows to greet her, and she moved forward into the kitchen. She suddenly began to accept more and more, that no one was at home. Gaining a little courage, she crept down the hallway towards the bedrooms, standing on her toes so as not to make noise. The streetlights outside cast strange orange-grey shadows over the floor as she passed, as if the house itself was trying to alert Pan to her presence. The door to her and Pan’s room was open, and she poked her head around the corner cautiously. The bed spread was still neatly made and flat the way Pan had done it that morning, at this moment it looked to her like a death shroud. But it also meant that he wasn’t home. She was confused, but then a part of her realized that he might be out at that very moment looking for her, coming to her with a reason, an explanation seeking forgiveness. That one thought horrified her, although she wasn’t quite sure why.

Counting her blessings, she turned on the light to the room and began her work. Within a few minutes, she had her bag packed. Feeling the pressure of Pan’s possible return on her shoulders, she moved to leave the room as quickly as possible. One last look to the bed she’d shared with the demi-god Pan, and then she turned her back and flicked off the light. She moved quickly and quietly like a doe in the night through the house. Without looking back, she slipped out the front door and clicked it quietly behind her, as if the sound might still wake someone up in the dark and quiet apartment.

The room was quiet after she left, the leaves outside the kitchen window casting strange orange-grey shadows across the countertops from the streetlights outside. One could almost believe that no one had ever lived in the small Vancouver apartment, except for the quiet sound of sobbing that echoed in the wake Atlanta had left.