Vaterkomplex

He kept complimenting him. Over and over again.

“I expect nothing less from my boy.”

Apollo’s face flushed a couple of shades of red. He was never good at taking compliments, so it was embarrassing to be put on the spot like that.

“Oh, uh, haha. It’s no big deal.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You may think it’s nothing, but your insights and reasoning led us here. I’d say that’s truly impressive.”

He scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know about that,” he laughed.

“I couldn’t be prouder.”

Something inside him lurched in a way he didn’t understand. It was an unknown feeling, but it was completely unbearable. Out of nowhere, being not even a foot away from his father made him feel like he was going to die. He wished he could crawl out of his skin just so he could stop himself from feeling that way.

“Stop it, would you?”

A large hand was placed on the top of his head. Usually, he’d be mad that someone had messed up his hair, but it was sort of nice. It was another unfamiliar sensation, but it didn’t make him feel uncomfortable. He couldn’t hold back a small sound, leaning into his hand as if he were a cat asking for someone to pet him.

They talked about the orb, talked about Nahyuta, talked about the revolution, but time did not dim the twisting sensation inside him.

“A dragon never yields.”

His mantra was cool but somehow lame in a dad sort of way. It was charming, even though his gestures were over-exaggerated and theatric.

Apollo couldn’t speak for a moment. He was having trouble organizing his thoughts.

(This unshakeable faith and confidence. It’s what draws people to him, whether they like it or not—even people like me.)

Apollo wasn’t sure why he was thinking that, but he finally found his voice again.

“You know, I remember back when we were kids, Nahyuta used to say with great pride, ‘I have the blood of the dragon within me.’”

“Yes, and that’s why I want to free him—free him from the poisonous clutches of the Ga’ran regime.”

“So, that’s your other reason for starting a revolution?”

“Yes, I need to smack some sense into that boy of mine. I mean, what else are fathers for?” He laughed heartily in the way he often did.

(I wouldn’t know.)

Against his will, his mind conjured the image of Dhurke striking Apollo, but it didn’t feel bad necessarily. It felt like something else, something nebulous. He decided not to think about it anymore.

After a bit more deliberation, Dhurke jumped in the lake to find a way out, much to Apollo’s dismay. He wished he had some anti-anxiety medication right then just so he could calm down his pounding heart. He wasn’t sure if he could handle losing another father.

Then, everything started shaking. Water came rushing in. He was engulfed immediately, and it knocked the wind out of him. It really sucked because he specifically needed air right then, considering he was submerged in never-ending water, and he couldn’t fucking swim.

This was literally his worst nightmare.

(I’m drowning), he thought, his head being pushed under over and over again by the current. He spit up water before another small wave pushed him down.

Eventually, though, he got his wits about him and grabbed onto something—a piece of driftwood? It floated, and that was what mattered.

He panted, trying to catch his breath. To make things worse, the water wouldn’t stop rising. It was so horrifying, he didn’t know what to do. Even as the water got higher, the only visible exit was blocked by more rubble.

(Is this the end?) he couldn’t help but think.

Apollo super didn’t want to die, but he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe! He was going to die there! He was going to die!

His mind’s eye was filled up with an image of Dhurke—his father. He hoped he got away safely. However, his thoughts were cut off by the burning sensation in his chest.

(So, this is what it feels like to drown.)

The burning, the helplessness—it was so disturbingly familiar.

(He was suddenly thrown back in time, visions of the man that had hurt him, violated him, choked him out of his goddamn mind.)

Another memory. He almost drowned before when playing with Nahyuta, but Dhurke saved him and his brother. He saw Nahyuta and himself throwing their arms around him, sobbing hysterically.

(What father wouldn’t risk his life to save his own children?)

But, he also remembered how he abandoned him at fifteen and never came back. He was an orphan, and he could barely hold himself together. He had no place in the world. He wanted to be a defense attorney, but he was just so bad at…well, literally everything.

Bad grades. No friends. No self-esteem.

And, so, he fell into the arms of a man who wanted to destroy him.

He had lamented before about how he couldn’t possibly have known that Apollo specifically pined for a father figure that wouldn't toss him aside. But, Kristoph—no, That Man—he was an enigma of the highest degree. Who knew what he knew? It was impossible to deliberate on it. You can’t bring the dead back to life.

Well, unless you do.

(Dhurke, why? Why didn’t you—)

It was his last thought before the water overwhelmed him, and he passed out.

“—ollo? Apollo!”

Apollo gasped.

He was slammed back into the land of the living violently, still dizzy from the previous lack of oxygen. He coughed and hacked and gasped.

But, even so, the most astonishing thing was that he finally made good on his promise.

“Still can’t swim, eh?”

He came back.

His signature horns stuck to his face unpleasantly. His eyesight was almost completely blurred, but it eventually cleared enough for him to see the most adoring expression that had ever been aimed at him. Apollo felt like he couldn't breathe in Dhurke's arms, and it wasn't because he'd almost drowned.

His heart beat so loud in his chest, in his head, in his ears. He shook out of fear, but he felt a warmth inside himself so powerful that no other feeling mattered.

Apollo pulled him closer and pressed his cheek into his shoulder, letting tears slide down his face.

"You came back..." he breathed.

"I wouldn't be a very good father if I let you drown."

Apollo had to admit that he was a very bad father, not counting this moment. He’d abandoned him for so many years, and now, he was selfishly back in his life and treating him like nothing happened at all. It was borderline cruel.

But, for whatever reason, he liked it that way.

The thought was sucked down with him as he was plunged into the water again. He clung onto Dhurke for dear life, praying to the Holy Mother with every fiber of his being that he would make it out of this cave alive.

And, thankfully, he did.

Apollo hacked so hard, he almost threw up on the ground. Well, at least there was ground, so he was happy about that.

“Where am I?” he slurred.

“Finally came to, son?” Dhurke grinned, looking triumphant as ever. He crouched down, lending out a hand to help him up. “Get your fill of seawater? Good thing your name’s not Neptune, huh?” He laughed in the way he did again.

Something filled him up, something weird and gross but also something he knew he wanted more than anything. It was just a feeling, but Apollo already knew he would have no choice but to succumb to it. Eventually, at least.

Once he stood and loosely collected his bearings, he sputtered out, “Dhurke…I’m—I'm only alive because of you. Thank you.”

“Oh, uh…y-you’re welcome. I, uh…just did what any father would do for his son.”

That was awkward. Why was he embarrassed? It wasn't the reaction he expected, not from him anyway. It was almost like he was bashful or flattered in a way that Apollo wasn't used to.

(It was almost like he was affected by Apollo because he liked him.)

He was swallowed by something overwhelming, some intense feeling of dizziness, and he became weak, stumbling forward.

Fortunately, Dhurke caught him.

“Whoa, are you alright there?”

Apollo wasn’t sure of the answer to that himself.

“I need to lie down.”

“Of course. You must be exhausted.”

Exhausted didn’t even begin to cover it. He felt like he was going to pass out again. But, with Dhurke’s help, he managed to get into a house, and he all but collapsed on the first plush surface he could locate, falling asleep the moment his head hit the cushion.

Apollo woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling.

He couldn’t exactly remember where he was. His thoughts were jumbled and knotted. He was laying on an old couch. He felt nauseated and had a headache, and he had to wait several moments before he could find the energy to sit up. As he looked around, nothing clicked in his mind. He clenched his eyes shut and shook his head, which felt like it had water trapped inside it.

“Apollo.”

He jumped and looked at the other side of the room. Dhurke was sitting in a chair, waiting for him to come to, apparently. He quickly walked to his side.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he lied.

“Thank the Holy Mother. I was nervous you were injured from the whole ordeal.”

Oh, yeah. That was what happened. He'd almost died. Maybe that was why everything felt so twisted up inside himself. He was anxious, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he developed a phobia of dark, enclosed spaces and maybe water, too. But, uh, that wasn’t what he’d asked him.

“No, I think I’m okay,” he said, squinting as if he couldn’t see the script that told him what to say. “I’m not in pain besides maybe a headache.”

Dhruke placed the back of his hand on his forehead, supposedly to check his temperature. He relaxed into the cool sensation. It was such a kind gesture, and it was the second time in less than a day that he was this close to him. He couldn’t really see that well in the cave, considering the water and adrenaline and lack of air had made his vision blurry, so the image of his face was almost shocking. When he was a kid, Dhurke’s skin wasn’t so weathered, and the lines of his face weren’t so sharp.

They’d both grown up without each other. Everything was so different now.

“You’re a little feverish.”

“Am I?”

To tell the truth, he did feel woozy and combined with the headache, he had no idea whether he was sick or not.

“I guess almost drowning in a cold underwater lake isn’t the best for a young lad such as yourself.” Dhurke stood back up and laughed loudly even though it wasn’t funny. “But, this house is abandoned, so you can stay here and rest for a bit.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Will you be back later?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t just leave you here.”

Dhurke offered a smile, and Apollo could have sworn that the room had become a few degrees warmer.

It was the second time he made good on his promise. He came back for him, just as he said he would.

“Apollo?”

“…Hm?” he blinked, being pulled from a hazy slumber.

“We’re going to court tomorrow, son, so we’re going to get you back to the Agency.”

He pushed himself up and yawned, still feeling groggy.

“We’re going home?”

Dhurke hesitated.

“I said, you’re going to Wright’s Agency.”

“Oh, sorry.” He rubbed at his eyes. “I’m still a little tired.”

“It’s nothing to apologize for,” he said, walking over to the couch like he had earlier in the afternoon. “You’ve done nothing but great things today.”

Those twisted up feelings hadn’t gone away. He felt uncomfortable and tense. He didn’t know what to do with his limbs or with his body or with himself.

He forced words out.

“It’s been long and frightening, that’s for sure.”

He sat on the arm of the couch, his kind smile ever-present.

“Well, I couldn’t ask for a better kid. You did your best, Mr. Justice, and I am so very proud of you.”

Something felt like it snapped in Apollo’s brain.

(Oh no.)

He realized the feeling in his chest was familiar, but like, a bad familiar. A familiar that told him that adults were bad and wanted him, and he was too weak to stop them. He shuttered, but it didn't make the sensation go away. In fact, it almost made the feeling more intense, made it spread throughout his body.

When Dhurke put a hand on his shoulder, he jumped, then shook in another sort of way. He didn't think he could get any warmer, but he became so overheated that he felt faint, like his knees were about to buckle even though he was still sitting the couch.

"Are you alright, son?"

Apollo gasped as a spark of something flashed through his chest.

“I—I,” he felt like he had to catch his breath, “I’m fine.”

“You always say that, don’t you?”

Apollo needed Dhurke to move away from him. Now.

“I gotta—I gotta go.”

He leaped up and began to speed walk away even though he still felt a bit wobbly. Dhurke called out to him, but he couldn’t possibly be in his proximity any longer.

He wasn’t sure what would have happened if he stayed.

It was so strange how quickly he could unravel.

Suddenly, he was right back to where he started, shaking with nervousness, flinching at every loud sound, expecting everyone to want to hurt him because he was bad and he deserved it.

The last time he felt this way, it was horrible. He couldn’t take it. And, now, it was here again, and it had possessed his body to the point where he couldn’t think clearly. Simple events started blurring together. He wasn’t sure where he was.

“—need to compile our case for tomorrow because this is going to be a hell of a—“

He jumped, squeaking as Athena’s voice yanked him out of his head. Athena also jumped in surprise to his reaction.

“Whoa, Apollo, did I scare you?”

“I…uh—no. I don’t think so…I…”

“What’s up?” Athena asked, hands on her hips, a pensive look on her face. “Why are you acting so skittish all of a sudden?”

(They had a long history of taking care of each other, but Apollo’s logic brain had checked out, and he was only raw nerves and fear.)

“It’s nothing. Sorry, I just don’t think I can…I don’t want to talk right now. I know we have to do the case, but I…”

Athena frowned, obviously hearing 100% discord in his voice.

“Did whatever that happened in the cave do a number on you?”

(His growing paranoia told him that she was going to find out what he was thinking and feeling, and she’d know how gross and how bad of a person he was.)

He snapped, “Athena—leave me alone.”

She jumped again and threw her hands up defensively. “Okay, okay! Sheesh. I’ll do the case prep myself. You don’t have to be rude.”

So, she went into the other room and left him alone. Just like he'd told her to.

Apollo groaned as his momentary anger subsided. He shoved his face into the pillow of the Agency couch out of embarrassment, but it only made him think about how desperately he wanted Dhruke to be the one to do that to him.

He couldn’t let this happen. He had to figure out something to make these thoughts go away. It was absolutely excruciating.

(He knew that this was obviously a response to—uh, previous behavior towards him, but Dhurke wasn’t bad and was obviously not hurting him. He’d saved his life! Nothing made sense, but the worst part was that he’d never felt so out of control before. Just so completely out of control.)

He wanted it to stop, but he couldn’t will the thoughts to go away. They were just there.

(Wouldn’t it be nice if he wrapped you up in his arms and told you how much he loves you? He might even grace you with a soft kiss, or maybe he’ll push you over and kick you while you’re down. Both sound pretty good, don't they?)

He rolled over to his back and covered his face with his hands.

“Why do I want this?” Apollo whispered, resisting his inclination to give into what his body wanted him to do.

But, if he failed, it wouldn’t be the first time.

When Apollo got home from the Agency, he felt completely overwhelmed in so many ways. Usually, he could wrangle his thoughts, but his brain was scattered across town—in the cave, in that house, in the Agency.

He dropped his bag to the ground.

This wasn’t fair. This just wasn’t fair. Why did he have to call him Mr. Justice? It was the one moniker that sent ice through his body. But, it also sent so much heat throughout him, too—so much heat that he felt helpless to stop it.

Apollo put a hand on his face and shuttered again, leaning against his door. This was awful. He didn’t want to feel this way. He didn’t want his cheeks to be warm, or his heart to be pounding, or his pants to be tight. This was truly the cruelest torture that the Holy Mother could inflict upon him.

It’s bad, he thought. But, it wasn’t bad enough to stop him.

As much as he was trying not to, he couldn’t help but wonder how he’d kiss him.

Would he be like Kristoph and be rough and uncaring? Or, would he be tender and kiss him like he truly loved him? Apollo wasn’t completely convinced he didn’t.

(He hoped and prayed for him to love him because, if he didn’t, there wouldn’t be anyone left. He’d be fresh out of family.)

Would he force him to the ground, or would Apollo willingly drop to his knees, thanking him for the opportunity?

He was kidding himself. He would be enthusiastic. He would beg for it. Ugh, that sounded so horrible, but it was also so hot. He would do anything to be in that position.

Okay, yeah, of course it was fucked up that he was thinking about his father figure in that way, but he couldn't help it. The idea was impossible to push out of his mind now that he’d been introduced to it. It was like he was suddenly obsessed, suddenly consumed. The shame was part of the allure. It was the forbidden nature of it all.

Like, he was so much physically larger than him. He could take advantage of him so easily. He would be helpless, but why…

Why did he want that?

(He did have a fantasy that someone in his life would repeat what Kristoph had done to him—and he knew that was bad, but his body just responded to that idea and those memories. Before, it had made him actually physically ill, but now that he felt like he was in a similar situation, everything about him reacted violently. It felt like he was completely out of control, a slave to his lizard brain.)

And, his lizard brain really wanted to fuck his dad.

To be fair, he thought, he's my foster dad, not my biological dad.

Yes. That clearly made it okay.

If he'd met him in a different circumstance, it wouldn't be bad. He was of age, and he could make his own decisions. So what if one of his types was older men? That wasn't a crime. He was allowed to be attracted to whoever he wanted, and yes, it was probably bad that he was attracted to the man that raised him, but he didn't have to call him by that name! He didn’t need to hold him in the cave like that! His embrace was so tender and careful, and he looked at him like he was the most important person in the entire world.

(It was the same thing as before. He had been neglected by a father figure in his life that would primarily withhold affection but sometimes give it to him, and finally receiving that affection felt like the best thing in the entire world. It was almost erotic in a way. It probably shouldn't have been, and it was probably because something was wrong with him. It wasn't that way with Mr. Wright, but he suddenly wanted Dhurke so, so badly that he couldn’t help but entertain the notion.)

His hell brain told him that, from experience, Dhurke was just waiting to make his move. That meant that he wanted him as badly as Apollo did. It was just how things worked. He wasn’t naïve anymore. He knew what other people wanted to do to him.

So, it wasn’t that bad that he was thinking about how Dhurke would take him.

Maybe pressed into a couch? Maybe straddling his lap? Maybe pulling at his hair? Maybe bent over a hard surface? Maybe with his big hands around his throat, choking the life out of him?

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

All of his nerve endings exploded, and he wasn't inside his own body for a few seconds. But, when he crashed down to Earth, things didn't seem so poetic anymore. The shame that wound him up so much compacted and crushed his body.

(He came on his hand while fantasizing about his father.)

"God, I'm so fucked up.”

The unfortunate thing about always insisting that you’re fine when you’re not is that people don’t know when you are Super Not Fine.

The case was progressing along, but Apollo felt like he wasn’t even there for it. He had never really dissociated before, but he had started to because he was plagued with Those Thoughts, and he absolutely could not think of Those Thoughts.

Everything passed in a blur, and he fell back into his old coping mechanism, which was to drown himself in work. He wished he could actually drown himself in work.

Maybe Dhurke should have let him drown. Then, he couldn’t be like he was. He wouldn’t be like this.

But, Dhurke was also part of the case. He was always there. It was so embarrassing to have to calm himself down because his body just reacted around him, now. He felt so nauseous because of his feelings and actions, but he couldn’t actually vomit, not like he used to, anyway.

How he won that Founder’s Orb case, he honestly had no fucking idea. He was completely shut down, but his brain had a way of going on autopilot recently. Maybe it was a way for him to slip through the cracks, to avoid people and their gazes, to protect his mind from what was really going on.

He would lose time, too. Dhurke kept popping up on the stand, and everything just fell away because he couldn't think of him—couldn't think of that.

But, they had won, and everyone was standing around in the lobby. It took everything in Apollo’s power to not have a total meltdown. He couldn’t have so many pairs of eyes on him because of how ashamed he felt. He wanted to make himself disappear out of existence.

Dhurke kept talking, and Apollo kept responding even though he didn’t understand the words either of them were saying.

It was all just so much. It was all too much.

They had to all go to Khura’in. He’d just have to hold it together a little while longer, even though that was the very thing that was making him fall apart.

“I…I’m afraid I don’t have much longer to live.”

“What?! You can’t be serious.”

Dhurke didn’t say anything.

Apollo’s stomach bottomed out. Was he dreaming? This couldn’t be real. He thought drowning was his worst nightmare, but this was a nightmare he’d never even considered. This was a nightmare so frightening that he wondered if he’d actually explode apart right there in front of him.

“Please, tell me that you’re kidding.”

His bracelet wasn’t reacting like it had earlier. Did that mean that Dhurke really was going to die? That wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be.

“No, son, I’m not. I will cross over to the Twilight Realm very soon.”

“But, how could this—how…”

Just when he thought he’d found someone. Just when he thought he had someone who loved him and would cherish him and would give him everything he ever wanted and yearned for since he left Khura’in all those years ago.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

How could that be enough? ‘Sorry’ didn’t mean anything, not in a situation like this. It almost felt like a slap in the face. All the years and sleepless nights alone, and all he had to say was ‘sorry'? Words meant nothing compared to the aching pain left inside him. Words couldn’t possibly mend all that Dhurke’s neglect had previously broken.

“Apollo, are you alright?”

He couldn’t take this. He felt his eyes stinging and his chest constricting. He had to get out of there. Now.

Apollo pushed through Phoenix and Athena and blindly ran out of the detention center. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew he couldn’t be here. He didn’t know why, exactly, but his brain told him to run, and that was what he did. He ran and ran, but he had no destination, so when his body began to fail on him, he stumbled to a stop.

He had to support himself by putting his hand against the wall of a building and doubling over. He was so out of breath that it was painful, but the thoughts that had caught up with him were much worse.

(He can’t die. He can’t die. There’s no way this is real. There’s so much I want to say. There’s so much I want to talk about. I must be dreaming. This must be a nightmare. I can’t handle this. I can’t take one more person leaving me. There’ll be no one left. I can’t handle this—)

“Hey.”

Apollo flinched when someone placed a hand on his back, instinctively shooting upright and smacking it away from him.

Phoenix and Athena stared back at him with wide eyes and concerned expressions. He assumed the hand he hit was Mr. Wright’s because it hung in the space between them, frozen in shock.

It only took a moment for Phoenix to regain his composure.

“Apollo.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was you, Mr. Wright.”

But, they all knew that this wasn’t normal. Phoenix knew that for a fact. He knew how Apollo used to flinch away from him, how he used to jump and yell and squeak at nothing because he’d been manipulated and hit and forced upon for years and always expected everyone to do the same.

“Athena, can you give us a second?”

“Uh, yeah, sure thing, boss.”

No need to tell her twice. She practically jogged away from them.

Apollo’s arms were crossed and pressed as hard as he could against his chest, head dipped forward and eyes clenched shut.

(He was so stupid. Why was he acting this way? Why was he so out of control? Why was everything so awful? Everything got so bad in such a short amount of time. He couldn’t even try to hide it because it was violent and instinctual, and it was bursting out of him without his permission.)

“Apollo, did something happen?”

He shook his head, not looking up.

“Is it because of what he told us just now?”

He shrugged.

“Did Dhurke do something to you?”

That was enough for him to practically leap from where he stood, hands waving in front of him.

“What?! No, no, no—of course not! He’s only been nice to me—he saved my life! There’s no way—I’m just freaking out over nothing. I don’t know why I’m even acting like this,” he said, breaking into nervous laughter.

He was only digging himself in deeper. Phoenix knew too much about him to swallow this story, but it was true that Dhurke didn’t do anything. It was just his fucked up fucking head that was doing this to him.

But, he knew that there was no use in lying to someone with a mystical lie-detecting talisman, and that was probably why Phoenix was looking at him like he was crazy.

“I won’t pry, but if you’ve been hurt in some way, I’m always here to help you.”

He felt his face fall.

“I promise, it’s no one’s fault but my own.”

Apollo could tell Phoenix didn’t believe him even though it was the truth.

When His Magistry called for a recess to find Nanya, Apollo somehow knew that this was it. If Dhurke wasn’t going to make it much longer past the trial, he had to do something during this recess. He didn’t know what he would do if he didn’t.

He looked for him as soon as the word “recess” had been uttered, and he saw Dhurke booking it out of the courtroom. He chased after him, and maybe it looked suspicious, but it didn’t look super suspicious because everyone else was heading to the doors, too. He was just dodging quickly between people, which was also probably completely unnoticeable and not suspicious at all.

Apollo wasn’t sure where he got the energy to sprint so quickly, but he managed to grab a hold of Dhurke’s sleeve before he could escape from his sight.

“Where are you going, Dhurke?”

Dhurke stopped in his tracks.

“Er, nowhere son.” He turned around, looking surprised for a second before he began scratching at the side of his face. “I just figured this would be a good time to take a break.”

Apollo didn’t buy that at all, especially because of the way his eyes were darting around, but he didn’t really care if he was lying to him or not. Under his gaze, Apollo flinched his hand away from him, looking down at the ground.

“What’s wrong, Apollo?”

“I-I—can we talk?” He peaked up sheepishly, like he was a moment from bursting into tears.

(He could tell this was the wrong time, but Dhurke relented anyway for some reason.)

“Of course.”

“Alone.”

“Oh.”

When he said that, he looked around quickly and pulled him into the nearest door, which happened to be an empty courtroom. It hadn’t been torn to smithereens by the forces of the revolution, but it wasn’t spotless either. It was away from prying eyes and ears, and that was the point.

Sensing the urgency, Apollo turned to him and immediately asked, “Please be honest. Did you do it?”

Dhurke looked a little confused. “I’ve said that I don’t remember. I’m not lying to you about that.”

“I just don’t know if I can trust you after all the stuff you were hiding. Like, you’re really dying? Is this trial the last time I’m going to see you?”

He looked genuinely saddened Apollo’s reaction. Maybe he hadn’t expected this to be so hard on him, or maybe he hadn’t expected to talk to him right now. But, what did he think? That this would all just go over smoothly? That it wasn’t going to be a problem? It was so ridiculous and cruel that this was happening now of all times when he hadn’t seen him in so long, when he hadn’t had parents for so much of his childhood.

Apollo looked away sharply, squeezing his eyes shut so the tears pricking them wouldn’t fall.

“Just when I finally was getting used to thinking of you as—”

“Son.” He put a hand on Apollo’s shoulder, which caused him to look up, eyes wide and bleary. He couldn’t help that his cheeks were flushed. His proximity always affected him so deeply. He always wanted to reach out and touch him, to fall into his arms like he had right after the cave fiasco. Even now, the late afternoon sun cast through the windows of the room and made everything softer, cast a halo around the both of them. “I’m genuinely sorry, but I—”

“Do you love me?” He said it so quickly that it threw Dhurke off guard.

“Uh, well, of course, I love you, son. Why wouldn’t I?”

Apollo rubbed at his forehead. His heart ached so deeply, it was almost impossible to hold back his emotions, and all the tears he wanted to cry, and all the love that he wished he could entrust in someone.

He stepped forward, and Dhurke stepped back, removing his grip on Apollo’s shoulder.

“I don’t know, I’m just used to—I’m used to people mincing words. Uh…I mean, I’m used to people just saying things they don’t mean, and I—I can’t handle that. I need to know if you actually really love me. Like, really, really love me.”

Dhurke looked shocked for a second, but then, he put his thumb and forefinger to his own chin, gaze aimed off to the side, thinking intensely.

“I’m not sure I understand, but I do love you with all my heart. I apologize for how long I was gone. I never meant to abandon you, I just—I couldn’t put you in that sort of danger.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Of course,” he said, giving him a kind smile. “I thought about you every single day. I've always missed you. But, I wanted to make a home where you would feel safe, and there was just never the right time.”

Apollo felt like he was not connected to his body. The feelings he was experiencing were not normal. They were not normal to the point where he felt like he might pass out.

“Do you really love me?” he asked again as if his mind had floated off, eyes unfocused just slightly.

“I told you. I do. And, I always will.”

His words were the final straw.

Apollo launched forward, throwing his arms around his neck and meeting his lips with Dhurke's.

Dhurke immediately tensed up, but Apollo didn't really care. Regardless of his reaction, he needed to do this. It was compulsory. He had no choice. This was his last chance. And, now that it was happening, Apollo felt abnormally ecstatic, like he was a substance that he had been craving for so long and just imbibed in.

But, then Dhurke jerked away, absolutely horrified.

"Apollo!"

Apollo made a pathetic noise, stumbling forward and grasping at the fabric of Dhurke’s shirt.

"Please, Dhurke. Please.”

“What in the world has gotten into you?"

"I need you. You're all I've been thinking about. I can't take it anymore. I'm going crazy."

"You're not saying what I think you're saying. Are you?"

His hands gripped harder.

"I know it sounds awful, but I—"

He tried to lean into him again, but Dhurke still pushed him away—maybe a little bit too hard. It wasn’t on purpose, but the adrenaline made Apollo feel weak. When he tried to regain his balance, it was in vain. He crashed to the ground, knocking his head against the cement of the courtroom floor.

The worst part of it was that when Dhurke knelt down to check if he was okay, he wouldn’t touch him. He wouldn’t hold him. He so desperately wanted his hands on him, and he just wouldn’t do it. It stung like he’d taken a knife to his chest and slashed him open so he'd bleed all over the place.

“What’s going on?” Dhurke asked, his voice low and deliberately calm.

Apollo sat up, a hand to his head, unable to conceal how horrified he was. He was trying very hard not to let his anxiety overpower him, but it wasn't working. He couldn't take it. Everything about this was awful. He was one hair away from a panic attack.

"You held me like that. You called me by that name. You just said you love me!” He looked up to Dhurke’s face in a pleading way. “I thought you wanted—weren’t you always waiting to—?"

“What? No!” Dhurke shook his head vigorously. "I am absolutely not going to do that to you. Why would you think that I would?"

His expression devolved into complete despair, and he couldn't help himself from bursting into tears.

"I can't make it stop," he whispered. "This is the only way to get it to stop.“

Dhurke stood again, and Apollo heaved out another sob.

(He thought he wanted one thing, but he was really crying about another. He needed pure love, but Apollo had been taught that love requires suffering, that love is personal sacrifice, that love is always sexual, that love is always physical, that love is fucked up, that love is begging for acceptance only to never receive it.)

He got to his knees only to stare absently at the floor. He felt like he was going to die. It was so mortifying to be rejected, especially considering their familial relationship. Everything was so messed up. He’d misinterpreted Dhurke’s genuine kindness as predatory, as grooming, as someone out to get him like That Man once had.

How could he have read everything so terribly wrong?

Apollo had thought about it over and over and over again, so many times like a film reel on repeat. He just thought that it was the way things worked. People wanted to hurt him. He couldn't trust someone without assuming the worst because then he wouldn't get blindsided, and he could convince himself that he and everything else around him was fine. 

Dhurke looked down at him. Heartbroken. Confused. Horrified.

Why was he like this? Why was he so fucked up?

Except he knew exactly why he was so fucked up.

The thing that was horrible about it was that it wasn’t just That Man’s fault. Dhurke's neglect and abandonment had instilled a sense of worthlessness in him since he was young. He gave him up, and he wasn't even his real father. Maybe Dhurke never loved him. Maybe he was lying to his face. Maybe he didn’t deserve to be loved at all.

Then, his actions had only reinforced that there were only certain ways that he “deserved love.” Platonic affection could only be gained by being submissive to all advances, regardless of their nature. Affection was conditional, and the condition was to always be compliant. Giving everything and accepting nothing in return was the only way that people with power over him would tolerate him.

(It was the only way to not be hit—or worse.)

"Son, what happened to you?”

(You wouldn’t know because you weren’t around to see it happen.)

"I—can't tell you that,” he said softly, getting himself off the ground and standing once again.

Dhurke looked incredibly upset, maybe even fearful?

"I guess I can't make you. But, this isn't—you know this isn't normal, right?"

"Of course, I know! I know how bad it is, I know. That’s why I need to make it stop…”

They heard shouts of his name from the lobby, and Apollo bristled once again.

“I don’t want to go,” he whispered through the last of his tears, rubbing them away with his hands. “I don’t want you to go.”

His father pulled him into a hug, a loving and sorrowful hug.

“We all have our own destiny’s, son, and mine has just come to its conclusion. Your destiny is in that courtroom. And, I know that you will go on to do amazing things.”

With that, Dhurke released him, turned, and ran out the door.

He never saw him again.

Apollo’s heart broke into a hundred-million pieces during that trial.

Dhurke died before he could sort out his feelings or his trauma. He died, and it felt like every single thing inside him had been carved out and thrown on the ground where it would be left to rot. He was now truly, utterly alone.

But, as much as he grieved for that loss, in a way, he felt slightly relieved. He could pretend like his past never happened. He could accept Nahyuta’s invitation to stay in Khura’in and restructure their legal system, and Apollo would never have to think about his father, or That Man, or (his aching desire to be hurt, and abused, and taken advantage of—his aching need to be unconditionally loved).

God, he was so fucked up.

But, he didn’t think about that. Instead, he told himself that it was better that he was gone. Apollo couldn’t be a gross degenerate anymore because all of his family was dead. And, that was a good thing, right? 

Yeah. It was probably a good thing.

It was really hard for him to focus his eyes.

He hadn't had an episode in so long that he’d almost forgotten what total despair felt like. It was like the ground had crumbled underneath him, and his stomach bottomed out as he fell indefinitely.

"Apollo, can you hear me?"

"Hm...?" He had to shake his head to clear the fog from it. He was sitting in the courtroom, on the stairs. Mr. Wright had just returned from the lobby, which surely had it’s fair share of commotion going on. ”O-Oh. Yeah, sorry."

"You don't need to apologize.”

(The last time Mr. Wright let him know that he said sorry too much, it was over a much too similar topic.)

“There’s a reason I can't stop saying it," he laughed. “Apollo-gize? Get it?"

Phoenix did not laugh. He gracefully moved on even though he probably thought it was funny.

“What are you doing out here by yourself?”

He sat down next to Apollo on the stairs.

“I’m just a little shell-shocked. That’s all.”

“I can imagine considering all that’s happened in the last few days. I don’t blame you for taking it hard.”

He nodded listlessly, trying not to think about the immense reality of the situation.

When he didn’t respond, Phoenix tried again, “Do you want to talk about anything?”

Oh, how could he possibly begin to explain all the messed up things that had been ruling his life throughout this whole case? Even if he hadn’t…done what he’d done…there was still all the fear and panic and pain that put him back in a space he hadn’t been in for so long.

"I think being around Dhurke has brought up some things,” Apollo said.

“Yeah, I can imagine.”

“I guess you could call them daddy issues, heh,” he joked, but not really. “Dhurke—I…he—I guess I don’t know what a dad is supposed to be like. And, I keep thinking of, y’know, Mr. Gavin. I keep thinking things, and I can’t help it.”

“What kind of things?”

Apollo could only get out, “Really bad things.”

Phoenix was trying his best to not give him a downtrodden look, but Apollo knew he had to sound pathetic and disgusting. God, he’d felt so disgusting constantly since the cave incident.

“I think those are what people call intrusive thoughts,” he said softly.

“They’ve been horrible, just constant—constant—I feel so out of control and awful, and I don’t know how to make it stop—“

He put his head in his hands, shaking it back and forth.

“Apollo?”

“It’s so bad, Mr. Wright. Everything is so bad. And, he’s dead. I—I just can’t believe he’s dead.”

“Hey, come here.” Phoenix reached out and pulled Apollo into a hug, and Apollo couldn’t hold his tears back any longer, and he cried into his shoulder, finally feeling the weight of all the previous circumstances flooding out of him—all the traumatic memories that had been stirred up by seeing his father again, by seeing his brother again, by getting thrown into a violent revolution, by almost dying in that goddamn fucking cave, and by all the horrible, horrible thoughts that made him do horrible, horrible things.

“I feel like—such a bad person.”

Phoenix released him and sat up straight, keeping a hand on his back.

“No, you are not a bad person, Apollo. You held it together through all of this, which isn’t easy for anyone, much less someone who has so much baggage with these cases. I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but honestly…I don’t think Dhurke was a very good father. I don’t even really know why I think that, but it was hard not to notice how freaked out you’ve been, and his affection was—noticeably distant.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Apollo sniffed. “He had a lot going on.”

“We all have a lot going on, but when you commit to taking care of a child, you make the decision to put those children first.” Phoenix had suddenly become very stern. “Sending you off to the States with no one was a pretty callous thing to do. Of course, I don’t know the exact circumstances, but regardless, even just feeling abandoned as a kid can make things harder in life. That isn’t even to mention what Kristoph did—”

Apollo felt a flare of panic shoot through him at the sound of his name. He looked up at Phoenix.

“You knew?”

“…Yes, I was informed.”

There were only two people who knew the details of the situation, and Klavier would never have told Wright, not after he begged him to keep it a complete secret.

“Hah—of course he’d brag about it. That’s just so like him.”

“I’m sorry, Apollo. I know it isn’t my place—”

“It’s fine. It’s better than having to explain it, I guess.”

Phoenix frowned but didn’t say anything.

“Every time I think I’m over it, he crawls out of the woodwork and messes up another aspect of my life.”

“It’s very common for someone’s behavior to bring up old memories. I can see how an emotionally distant figure in your life would remind you of him.”

“I know Dhurke didn’t mean it.”

“No, of course not. But, just because it’s unintentional doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt other people.”

He took in a deep breath and released a similar exhale. He couldn’t really handle this conversation on top of anything else.

“Thanks, Mr. Wright. I feel a little better.”

He offered a smile, but he could tell by Phoenix’s expression that he knew he was lying.

Ultimately, he decided to stay in Khura’in with Nahyuta. Everyone was supportive, if not a little sad. He expected that reaction. Mr. Wright even thought it’d be good for him.

It is going to be good for me, he told himself, looking up at the clear blue sky.

But, even though he knew it was good for him, there was also a part of him that wanted everyone to unanimously ask him to stay. Maybe, then, he’d feel like he actually had a home and an inseparable family.

Maybe staying in Khura’in was a distraction. Maybe taking on every case he could get his hands on was a coping mechanism. Maybe he couldn’t handle any more disappointments. Maybe he couldn’t handle any bigger degree of abandonment.

Maybe someone would save him one day, and maybe that person would be himself. But, it wasn’t going to work that way yet, not by a long shot.

For now, he had to keep pushing forward. There were people counting on him, after all.