It had been two weeks.
Not long enough for anything to change, not really. But just long enough for routines to start forming in the hollow spaces where things used to be chaotic.
Hermes had set an alarm, not because he needed it, but because it made the mornings feel more structured. Like they were a family. Like normal people did. The sun would spill lazily through the blinds at 6:30, and by 7:00 he would have coffee brewing,
Aphrodite would still be in his robe, brushing his hair at the sink with a kind of drowsy elegance, and Apple....
Well, Apple would already be sitting upright on the couch, staring at the wall, eyes open like they never closed, even though they did.
He did sleep, sometimes. He just didn’t seem to need it the way they did.
The days had rhythm, more or less. Hermes taught. Apple listened. Aphrodite watched.
It felt like something being built, like stacking stones carefully in hopes that they would eventually form something that could withstand rain and time and wind.
Apple learned how to cook an egg. He burned three pans getting there, and didn’t seem to care either way. But when the fourth pan succeeded, he ate the result without comment and looked vaguely satisfied. As if the lesson hadn’t been in the egg but in the process.
He learned how to do laundry, though he never remembered to separate the colors. He learned how to unlock a phone.
He learned the names of animals, fruits, and kitchen tools. He learned the laws of traffic, what crosswalk lights meant, why he couldn’t just walk into people’s homes.
He learned to speak in two words, sometimes three.
"Sit still," Hermes would say. "Hold gently. Use soap. Say thank you. That’s rude. That’s dangerous. That’s not ours. That’s mine."
Apple would repeat them quietly. Sometimes with a nod. Sometimes without.
Hermes took it as a sign of progress.
"Look at him," he said one afternoon, smiling as Apple sat cross-legged on the floor, watching a hero documentary with such intensity it was like he was burning it into his memory.
Hermes felt like a proud father. "He’s learning. He’s curious. I think he wants to be a hero."
Aphrodite looked at Apple too, but he didn’t say anything. His face was calm, but his thoughts were not.
Hermes could read them, could taste the soft rustle of doubt in the corner of his mind. But he didn’t push.
Apple tilted his head toward the screen.
"Why?" He asked. "Why save?"
Hermes knelt beside him. "Because people need help. Because it’s the right thing."
Apple looked back at the screen. Watched a hero leap across buildings, arms blazing with kinetic force. "Why right?"
Hermes was patient. "Because hurting people for no reason is wrong. Because being stronger doesn’t mean you should crush someone weaker."
Apple didn’t answer. His fingers pressed lightly into the carpet, like he was measuring its texture.
Then, after a beat, "Why not take?"
Hermes blinked. "Take?"
Apple turned toward him. "Take power. Use it. Be strong. Help better."
Hermes laughed softly, not mocking, just surprised. "Because that’s not how it works. We don’t just take things because we want them. Powers are part of people. You respect that. You don’t just kiss someone and take their DNA unless they’ve given you permission."
Apple nodded slowly. Thoughtful. "Why feel bad?"
"Because it’s wrong," Hermes said gently. "Because you’re hurting them. Because you’re taking something without consent. Even if it’s for a good reason, you should still feel the weight of what you’re doing."
Apple stared at him for a long time.
Then he looked away again.
Aphrodite, who had been watching from the kitchen doorway, kept his silence.
But later that night, when Hermes was brushing his teeth and wiping his face with a towel, Aphrodite came up behind him in the mirror and said:
"He asks why too much."
Hermes spat out the toothpaste, rinsed. "He’s learning. That’s a good thing."
"Is he?" Aphrodite said softly. "He listens. But he doesn’t believe."
Hermes turned to face him, towel in hand. "You think he’s lying?"
"I think..." Aphrodite hesitated. "He wants to understand the rules, but not because he wants to follow them. I think he wants to know what lines exist. So he knows how far he can go before he gets in trouble."
Hermes frowned. "You think he’s dangerous?"
"I think he’s empty," Aphrodite said. "And when you pour rules into something empty, it doesn’t always make them full. Sometimes it just makes them curious."
Hermes didn’t answer right away.
But then Aphrodite said, almost in a whisper, "He hugged me today."
Hermes blinked. "What?"
"I thought it was you," Aphrodite said. "From behind. He held me exactly the way you do. His voice, the cadence. He talked about tea, the way you like it. He said he liked honey. You like honey. He doesn’t."
Hermes stared at him.
Aphrodite was insistent, which was rare for someone conflict-avoidant like him. "I didn’t tell him anything. He just... copied you."
Hermes ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe he’s just trying to connect. He’s a mimic. He wants to feel close."
Aphrodite shook his head. "It didn’t feel close. It felt... rehearsed."
Hermes opened his mouth to respond. Then the door clicked open in the other room.
Just the sound of a key turning in a lock.
Hermes and Aphrodite were both still too engrossed in their conversation to notice. The clock read 8:12 PM.
Somner had sent them a message that he will be dropping by to check on Hermes. Hermes had never talked to him and the Cloud Nine Squad ever since the Megamantis incident. And Somner, being the worrywart that he was, couldn’t give him space for too long.
But Hermes hasn’t read the message yet.
And so, the only one left in the living room to open the door was...
Somner smiled sweetly at this man, just happy to see him that he didn’t notice his mismatched eyes. He wrapped his arms around him, burying his face on his neck.
"Master.... I missed you so much..."
The man’s hand hesitated at first. Then, it slowly slipped from his shoulders, then to the small of his back.
"... I missed you too."