You suppose there are questions that should be left unanswered, because the truth cannot hurt if it is not known. As you tuck your little Jace to his bed and kissed him goodnight, it starts. The series of question you could not answer.
“If Meg made a deal with Hades to bring her boyfriend back, why did he choose another girl?” Jace asked innocently.
You smiled bitterly and turned off the TV. “Well, she’s better with Hercules anyway, right?”
You snapped the DVD case shut. Hercules. What gave you the idea to let your son watch a film about Greek gods? It will give him nothing but false ideas about the deities, given the fact that his father is. . . .
“Mom?”
“Hmm?” you answered, sitting in the bed with your son.
“Do you want to know what we learnt from school today?” your seven-year-old said excitedly. He bares resemblance from him, and even though everything that reminds you of his father makes your heart ache, you cannot resent your little boy. Here he is, as little and clueless as he can, a front tooth missing, looking like a tiny replica of him. Except his eyes. Somehow he did not get those fiery eyes of his. Jace got bright warm eyes that will not burn, but light up instead.
“What is it?” you said, returning the excitement of your child.
He smiled sheepishly. “Teacher said that families have a child, a mother, and a father.”
Your heart dropped. Of course, you knew that he would ask this eventually. You had prepared yourself for this moment the day you found out that you are pregnant, but words still manage to leave your tongue.
How are you supposed to tell him that his father does not even know that he exist?
How are you supposed to explain what his father has done? He has been terrible to you, but you endured it, simply because you love him. You forgave him. ‘It’s just PTSD from war,’ you kept convincing yourself. He is war and war is not all about violence. It’s about justice, freedom, fighting for what you stand for. And trauma is always a part of war. You tried to find an excuse for that. You tried to be calm, you tried to be gentle; you tried to fire back. But in the end, where there is war, there is love.
And so love came around.
Another thing about war is betrayal. About switching sides. Trickery, conspiracy.
When you saw it, two bodies splayed across the mattress you shared, the battle raged and it was over before it has begun. They did not drag you on the battlefield, they had tear you into pieces in your own home, with the help of an inside job.
And one more thing about war, the most unrecognized one is acceptance, defeat. So, with three weeks in your belly, you waved your white flag as you walked away in tears. Running from war, running from love.
“Is that so?” you innocently asked your child.
Jace pouted. “Well, I told her that’s not true because I only have my mommy.”
“Yes! And I—” you tickled him in every word, “—love—you!”
Little Jace giggled as you tickled him. Another thing that differs him from his father—Ares never smiled.
The giggles subsided and Jace panted from kicking around. You made a funny face and he laughed again.
“Aren’t you gonna ask about your dad?” you asked him when he calmed.
He waited patiently and listened, the same way he does when he asks you for a bedtime story. You wished he would show disinterest, you wished he wasn’t curious.
“The truth is, he’s gone to war,” you said, partly true. The least you want is hoping that his father will come back for him, but you cannot bear to lie to your child.
Jace’s eyes widened. “Daddy is a soldier?”
You nodded and smiled. “Yes.”
“Does he have a big gun?”
“Uh-huh. And he fights his enemies like this!” you said, tickling him again, mimicking bullets.
“I want to be a soldier too when I grow up!” he said excitedly.
You will be, sooner than you thought, when the monsters realize what you are.
You pushed the thought at the back of your mind. “I’m sure you will.”
“Will daddy come back, mommy?” he asks hopefully.
You sighed. “I don’t think he will come back, baby. I’m sorry.”
He nodded solemnly. “He’s dead?”
“I don’t know,” you lied.
For a second you were afraid that you said too much to your kid. He laid on his bed silently, as if processing it all in.
Finally he looked at you and beamed. “At least, I have you, right?”
“Of course! You will always have me, no matter what.”
Jace nodded and yawned afterwards. “I’m sleepy.”
“Oh, okay. Goodnight,” you said as you tuck him in. “I love you,” you whispered and kissed him in the forehead.
“Goodnight mommy, love you,” he whispered back.
You switched off the light and closed the door behind you when you leave. For a moment you just stood at the door, breathing heavily. The conversation went better than you anticipated, but it doesn’t make it easier. You thanked the gods that your son is understanding, and you love him so much for it.
The next day went as normal. You woke up and prepared breakfast. You helped Jace get ready for school and you two munched on pancakes as you waited for the school bus to arrive.
That whole morning your mind is clouded with thoughts. You didn’t reveal to your son what his father is, but you’re nervous. You know that anytime you could lose him. You didn’t expect him to come into your life, at first you didn’t want him, but he is why you are still living. He is what you wake up for. You cursed the heavens for giving you such fate. Sooner he will begin his journey as a hero, as a demigod. He will suffer and there will be nothing you can do about it.
You absent-mindedly pecked Jace on the cheek when you hear the familiar beep of the bus and sent him sprinting out. You waved him goodbye and returned to the house.
You sat in the couch and hugged your knees. You’re doomed from the start, aren’t you? You wished you never met him, but if you haven’t you will never have your son. And there he is, the light of your life, but he is also doomed.
You cried and cried and cried. You hated yourself for bringing him into the world and giving him a fate where his chances of living is slim. If he never came around, you would still be miserable as you were eight years ago, but you know this happiness will end in tragedy sooner.
You sobbed and stood to get yourself a glass of water. As you pour yourself a drink you noticed a green bag at the edge of the counter. You slapped your forehead. Because of your overthinking, you forgot to give Jace his lunch bag.
You quickly gulped your water and grabbed Jace’s lunch bag. Luckily, Jace’s school is only a few minute’s walk and you need to run errands anyway. You locked the door and jogged away.
You were walking for a few minutes when you noticed being followed. Your heart raced and you didn’t dare look behind. You clutched the bag tightly as you walked faster and you felt the person behind you walked faster too.
Finally, you run and the person went chasing you. When you felt somebody touch you on the shoulder you turned around and swing the lunch bag at the person’s face.
“Hey! Hey, Y/N! Relax, it’s just me!” said Ares.
You panted. Your heartbeat is racing, both from running and nervousness.
“Why the hell are you here?!” you said, gasping for air.
“I just wanted to see how you’re doing! What’s up?” He said with his usual cocky grin that you used to fall for.
Your blood is rising with anger. You don’t know if it’s only because of him being the god of war or because of the seven years’ grudge that you suppress inside your chest. You have a feeling it’s the latter.
“I don’t need you, please leave me alone,” you said through gritted teeth.
“Aww, come on, seriously? I was kind enough to visit you and you’re treating me like this?”
“For sex you mean?” You spat. “Why else would you show yourself after more than seven years if you’re not alone and doesn’t have anybody else? Tell me, where is she?”
You can see in his eyes that he is pissed by what you said as his snarky grin disappeared from his lips.
“You’re still angry about that?”
You huffed.
“You dated a god, you got yourself into it! You should have known. But no! You’re aware that you’re fucking a god, you brought it upon yourself, and you got upset after the consequences.”
You bit your lip as you tried to stop the tears roll down your eyes.
“May I remind you that you are the side chick—”
“What does that make you then? Huh? Aren’t you also the side piece?”
“What—”
“Please, I’m begging you leave me alone. We don’t need you here just—pick up another mortal if you wanna have sex that badly,” you muttered and turned to leave.
“I—Y/N—sorry, I didn’t mean to be that harsh. Please talk to me,” Ares called, grabbing your arm.
“It’s been so long Ares, just let it go. I’m in peace now.”
“But I’m not—do you really think I only dated you because of that? Y/N, I just really wanted to know how you’ve been.”
You snatched your arm and proceeded to go.
Ares still walked after you. He tried to hold you back again, this time he held your wrist.
“Please Y/N—what are you holding?”
He’s lifting your hand that’s holding the green canvas bag printed with cartoon superheroes.
You snatched your hand away. “That’s my son’s lunch. Now please leave so I could give it to him so he could eat.”
Ares’s eyes are wild with realization.
“You have a son?”
You proceeded to walk and ignored him.
“How old is he? Are you married?”
You answered none of his question and kept a hard face. He followed you all the way through, his questions getting more desperate than the last.
“Y/N, who is the father?”
You’re getting near Jace’s school.
“Y/N please answer me.”
You faced him. “YOU better NOT follow me inside and leave ME and MY son the fuck alone. I do not want you ANYWHERE in our lives!” you shouted.
Dejectedly, the god of war remained as you rushed inside. You badly wanted to get away from him and push all the hopes of a complete family away.
