1. whispers

"Enough! The court sees no reason to further prolong this trial."

No. No, it couldn't end this way. Not when they were so close!

"W-Wait! No, please, wait, Your Honor!"

Something was very wrong. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Alarm bells rang off as loud as thunder in the back of Athena's mind, but her nervousness had rendered her completely immobile. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears and reminded her that she was still alive, despite the fact that it felt like her insides had been turned to solid ice.

Oh, no. She remembered this feeling all too well. The mounting desperation, the anxiety that coiled every muscle in her body as tensely as the tightest-strung piano wire, the unsettling cold that seemed to flood her from the inside-out. Not here! Not now! Swallowing hard past the sudden lump in her throat, Athena took a few gasping breaths, but still her lungs burned for air. An instinctive panic and dread overwhelmed her, made the world spin dizzily in her field of vision and made her stomach drop to the tips of her toes. Dimly, she was aware that Apollo was trying to say something to her, but his voice seemed warped and faraway.

No one's listening, she thought, hating the blankness and complete lack of concern on every face in the courtroom – and hating the tears that came to sting the backs of her eyelids even more. Why aren't they listening to me . . . ?!

Urgency and terror making her utterly indifferent to consequence, Athena found herself yelling the only word that seemed to make any sense: "Simon!"

He stood at the witness stand, tall and proud and oddly regal, not at all the gangly, quiet boy she'd once known. He looked every inch the noble shogun, ready to greet the gates of Hell itself with a mischievous quirk of a smile on his face – but she saw past the act with little effort. The confidence was a poor cover for the turmoil, especially when the voice of his heart burned and cried with the truth.

"Simon, stop this! You have to tell them the truth! Tell them you're innocent, Simon!" Her words fell from her lips clumsily, every syllable heavy and disjointed. Even her teeth were beginning to chatter as fear in its purest form descended upon her. "P-Please, you don't have to protect me anymore! W-We can think of something, just please stop them!"

"Prosecutor Blackquill! You are hereby ordered to surrender to the court immediately. Your previous verdict of 'guilty' still stands. Bailiff! Would you please escort Mr. Blackquill to the penitentiary? There, he will await his pending execution."

"No!" Athena hadn't previously thought herself capable of screaming so loudly, but now it was only her own voice filling her ears. Ridiculously, she was reminded of those old Saturday morning cartoons, where the whistles on the cheerily-bouncing trains would blow out steam with a high-pitched squeal. Had she not felt so defeated, she might have almost found the analogy somewhat comical.

"Court is adjourned!"

The judge swung his gavel down, and with a mighty WHAM! the entire world melted away.

Athena Cykes woke up a gasping, sweaty mess. She found herself staring directly at the ceiling – or, at least, she would have been, if her messy orange bangs weren't plastered to her forehead, damp with perspiration. Emitting a noise half-between a groan and a yawn, she pushed her hair back and blinked rapidly, as if she'd just surfaced after an excruciatingly long time spent underwater. Slowly but surely, the haze began to dissipate from her sleep-addled mind, and she became aware of the warmth of another figure pressing against her side.

Simon.

He slept on her right side, curled up so that his back was turned towards her. Even in the darkness, Athena could just barely make out the steady rise and fall of his shoulders that indicated he was fast asleep. Well, that was good. At least he was getting some rest. Usually, with them, it was the other way around and his insomnia kept him awake. Maybe the fact that he was sleeping so peacefully meant that he was finally starting to let the past remain in the past and find the serenity she'd always wanted for him.

He's here, Athena caught herself thinking in a sort of subdued wonder. He's really here with me. Everything's okay. He's fine. I'm fine. It was only a dream.

Still, the reassuring thoughts did little to chase away the ghosts of anxiety and sorrow left over in the wake of her nightmare. Her entire body still felt tense and shaky, her muscles weak; though her senses were gradually returning to her and her mind was working its way out of the murky veil of slumber, her heart still raced as though she'd never left that hellish courtroom scene at all. A shiver ran down her spine, and for a few terrifying seconds she almost felt as if the phantom himself had been tracing his index finger down the curve of her back, instead.

In a desperate attempt to shake off the insurmountable fear roiling in the pit of her stomach, Athena turned onto her side and buried her face in the comfortable space between Simon's shoulder-blades, arms winding around his waist. His body was as still and calm as ever against her own; as usual, his stalwart nature helped tremendously to bring some much-needed placidity to the gale-force wind that was her personality. In no time at all, the tightly-wound knots in her stomach seemed to unravel, the weight on her chest lifting and finally enabling her to take stronger, fuller breaths. Her eyes fell slowly shut, her weary mind succumbing to the tranquility of the moment . . .

. . . and promptly snapped back awake again when she heard a sleepy groan from Simon himself.

"What's happened?" he murmured groggily. Within the span of a second, however, the sleepiness was all but gone and he twisted around in bed, confused but very much alert as he added dryly, "What is troubling you, Cykes-dono?" He rubbed lazily at his eyes, but the smirk that meandered across his pallid features told her that any annoyance on his part was mostly feigned.

"Oh," Athena gasped, eyes widening in surprise. "Did I wake you? I am so sorry – no, nothing's wrong, go back to sleep, okay?"

A red flush of color flooded her cheeks – geez, was she an idiot for managing to wake up her poor insomniac, former-convicted-felon boyfriend for nothing! Despite her embarrassment, she couldn't help but crack a tiny grin at the honorific, remembering all the times he'd called her that back when she was a little girl, living at the lab with her mother, and he'd just been the shy but sad young man who'd trailed after Metis like a puppy.

"I'm afraid it's far too late for that," he responded, somehow managing to sound dignified even as he stretched like a spoiled little house-cat. Shifting his position in order to better face her, he studied her with those keen gray eyes. "Nevertheless, it matters not, for sleep is a mere construct of the weaker-willed."

Oh, for crying out loud, did he just find a fancy way to say 'sleep is for the weak'? Athena snorted, the grin on her face turning a shade closer to devious as she pointed out, "Hm, something tells me you were singing a different tune a couple of minutes ago. I bet you even drooled on the pillow and everything," she giggled, prodding him teasingly in the stomach.

His response was a low grunt, followed by a look of stricken indignation, a tilt of his chin, an imperious little sniff as he glanced off to the side. "The little lass fancies herself a comedienne now, does she?" he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Heheh! Oh, come on, Simon! The voice of your heart says that you secretly think I'm hilarious," she jested, squirming betwixt the sheets until she was close enough to him to slip her foot between his. "Geez, your feet are cold!"

Still, even as she joked around, Athena caught something behind the spark of amusement in Simon's eyes. He was covering up something, and when she listened closely to his heart, it sounded like . . . concern. Wariness. And then, as there usually was whenever they were around one another, there was that note of something soft and comfortable, something romantically melodic and warm that she'd only ever heard before when Miss Aura had spoken about Metis Cykes, or when Apollo had told Athena about his friend Clay. Never had something so precious and powerful been for Athena herself . . . but now it was, and it never failed to excite and bewilder her all at once.

"Be that as it may, I hardly think that alone to be your reasoning behind pulling me from the bonds of sleep in the wee small hours of the morning like this." He raised his dark eyebrows knowingly, his gaze meeting hers with the sort of thoughtful intent that had come to define Simon Blackquill over the years that she'd known him. "Now, would you be so kind as to tell me what has perturbed you so, Athena?"

There it was, the word that, when spoken by him, made her heart flutter like a bird frantically pounding its wings against the confines of its cage; it rendered her insides as squishy and useless as watered-down Jell-o pudding. He'd called her Athena, not Cykes-dono or little lass or any of the other thousands of pet names he tended to use for her. Just her real name. He saved that for when he was trying to be serious with her, and such occasions often provided her with insight into what he was truly feeling without even needing to put her special power to use.

Athena bit back a frown. Conflict surged within her. Did she dare enlighten Simon as to the contents of the dream she'd just experienced? She knew all too well just how protective he could be of her, and while she appreciated that he cared so deeply for her well-being, she would hate to give him any cause for worry. He'd spent seven long years in prison waiting and wondering, taking the blame for a crime he didn't commit all for her sake, and Athena would be damned if she would ever be the reason behind such misery again.

Sighing, she weighed options for but a moment before finally admitting, "It was just a freaky dream. That's all." She shrugged vaguely, hoping to dismiss the topic as quickly as possible. Much as she was grateful for his concern, at this point she had decided that she would simply prefer not to think about that awful nightmare any longer.

"Oh?" The clever glint of curiosity in his eyes was so familiar that it was hard for her to suppress a smile. "And would you care to enlighten me as to its contents?"

Though the words themselves were brusque and abrupt, his tone of voice was quiet, contemplative, and the look on his face reflected nothing but patience. In court, Simon had a reputation for being quick-tempered and impatient, with a profound hatred for anything that could qualify as unnecessary chatter, but with her, he always had been a touch . . . kinder. Of course, he was no Mr. Rogers, but compared to his courtroom etiquette, his attitude around Athena was as sweet as gingerbread.

Athena looked down reluctantly, the words on the tip of her tongue, though she stubbornly withheld from actually voicing them. Bringing up the subject of her nightmare would just force her to admit both to Simon and to herself that perhaps she wasn't having as easy a time putting the past behind her as she let on to everybody else. It was a difficult task, being the spunky, upbeat, and optimistic one all the time, but that was what she had assumed was always a part of being brave! Her mother had always told her to be strong at times like these, and though she'd learned by now that that meant not carrying the burden alone, she would still rather not push her problems onto everybody else. Not only was that unfair, but it was a touch on the dramatic side, as well.

Despite her best efforts, Simon Blackquill didn't need ultra-refined hearing to pick up on the myriad of emotions twisting around in her heart. The tips of his slim fingers brushed against her chin, tilting her head ever so slightly until their eyes locked once again. The look in his eyes remained as cool and reserved as ever, steady and analytic. She could practically see the gears in his head turning.

Regarding her seriously, he muttered, ". . . Please."

Dammit. Was that his infamous power of suggestion at work, or was Athena just ridiculously susceptible to every little thing that he said? No matter the answer, Simon seemed thoroughly pleased with himself, that wry little smirk that she knew so well finding its way onto his face once again.

"Don't laugh," she instructed him at last, cocking an eyebrow and sending a cautious glance in his direction. "Okay?"

Simon conceded with a slow nod. "I swear to it on my honor as both a prosecutor and a swordsman," he answered, the barest traces of his dark, offbeat sense of humor coloring his tone of voice.

Athena couldn't help but issue forth a soft breath of laughter, burying her face in his chest. In his own bizarre way, he did try his best to cheer her up and make sure that she was properly taken care of, and she could never possibly hope to repay him for all that. It was strange, but little moments like these just served to make her fall in love with him all over again – she hadn't ever thought that was even possible.

"I-it was awful, Simon," she confessed at last, her shoulders caving in and making her appear to be much smaller than she actually was. The warmth of his body next to her gave her consolation; his heartbeat acted as her anchor, consistent and strong. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she pressed forward. "They were holding your trial all over again, only this time . . . this time, I couldn't save you. I failed. I kept screaming for them to listen to me, to give me another chance to help prove your innocence, but . . . n-no one would pay attention or even look at me." Wrapping her arms more tightly around him, she swallowed heavily, doing her best to calm the anxiety that even talking about it had called forth.

Silence spanned between them for what seemed like an eternity. His body was very still against hers, but he was far from relaxed. Rather, he was listening carefully, drinking in every word, every muscle tensed as though he truly were a brave samurai preparing to leap into a dangerous battle. Surprise washed over her when she suddenly felt the sensation of his fingers moving through her hair; for a moment, she went rigid, startled by the gesture. Such physical displays of affection were rare with Simon Blackquill, and as a result, Athena had grown to love them dearly whenever the chance arose. As the movements of his fingers settled into a comfortable rhythm, she relaxed once again, a calm little smile wavering into place on her face.

Just when she began to wonder if he'd fallen asleep again or not, Simon mused quietly, "Yes, well . . . it goes without saying that your fears are derived from dreams and their falsities alone, nothing more." So close were they in proximity to one another that she could now feel his warm gusts of breath against the shell of her ear. "Even in the event that all that you saw had been real, I would have inevitably found my way back to you."

Athena chuckled softly, nuzzling against his chest. "Really? I thought you said you'd have to settle down into Hell if you were found guilty." There was a short pause, and after brief consideration, she added thoughtfully, "That still probably wouldn't matter. I'd walk through Hell, too, if it meant I could bring you back."

"Heh. That would be easy."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot. Everything's so easy for Simon the Samurai." Athena cracked a mischievous grin, enjoying it thoroughly when she was able to earn a low rumble of laughter from him in return.

Daring to give the curve of her ear a playful, roguish little nibble, Simon responded, "You would indeed be quite staggered to learn the boundless capabilities of a man with a motivation."

Giggling, Athena said in a ridiculous imitation of Blackquill's voice, "Oh, yeah? Enlighten me."

"Hm . . . some other time, perhaps, Cykes-dono." Twirling a strand of hair around his index finger absently, Simon murmured, "For now, would not a return to the ever-peaceful Elysian fields be a preferable option?"

Scoffing and playfully rolling her eyes, she leaned in to press a kiss to the hollow of his pale throat. "If by all that heightened lingo you mean sleeping," she mumbled against the clean-shaven smoothness of his skin, "then yes. I guess you're right. Goodness knows we can't have you wandering around the house even crankier than usual tomorrow morning."

Simon at least deigned to give a low hum of mild interest, apparently appeased by her words of agreement and approval. Still, her refined hearing caught an undercurrent of something else; his heart was still clinging to that concern he'd held earlier, his unfailing protectiveness regarding her well-being revealing itself once more. He'd always been that way, preferring to remain a guardian in secret rather than make his sentiments obvious, but it never failed to shoot a tingly warmth throughout her entire body, to ignite that tugging sensation just behind her naval that urged her ever closer to him.

"I trust that your fears have been placated, then, oh little canary?" he asked her, his quiet, ever-pensive baritone slashing through the prolonged silence as cleanly and precisely as one of his finely-tempered blades.

Athena gave him a soft smile, cheeks glowing at the words 'little canary'. That had been another of his many nicknames for her growing up due to her love for the color yellow, and the callback to their past together never failed to send her stomach into somersaults – the very best kind. "Yes," she answered with a nod. "Thank you, Simon. I'm sorry I woke you up. It's just that . . . I just don't ever want to lose you again. It already drives me crazy that you had to spend so many years in that prison cell all because of me."

"Ha. According to an ancient Japanese proverb, the man who falls down seven times stands up eight times. I believe you would be more familiar with the colloquial, 'no pain, no gain'." His eyes met hers with his usual subdued intensity, and as he reached out and brushed a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, he all but whispered, "What was my prison sentence but the whetstone upon which my resolve was ultimately sharpened?"

Their gazes locked, and after a nonsensically dramatic pause, Athena sputtered with laughter, sweeping him into an embrace once again. Raining little kisses onto his neck, she mumbled affectionately, "Oh, stop with your metaphors and just let me kiss your stupid face already."

"That's just as well," he breathed, but he'd scarcely completed the final syllable of his sentence before Athena had shifted up and pressed her mouth to his. She took delight in hearing a muffled noise of surprise lift from the back of his throat; encouraged, she reached up and slid her fingers into his shockingly soft hair, idly massaging his scalp as their lips moved together.

Athena loved the way that Simon kissed her. In a complete contrast to the intensity of his personality, he held her so gently, moved so carefully, as though he were frightened that she might crumble apart in his arms. Yet, there was a sort of yearning behind all the shyness, a melancholy undercurrent to his every move that suggested he was simply trying to win back all the years they'd lost with one another. Love made itself known in such strange ways sometimes; Simon didn't even need to say it for her to know it was true. If she were being perfectly honest, she probably didn't even need her special ability to realize the truth. The love was there in his actions, and it had been all along.

"Get some rest," she practically purred when they had broken apart, reaching out to cup his cheek in her hand. Her thumb idly stroked along the pronounced curve of his cheekbone as she added, "I'm feeling okay now. Don't worry."

Simon had closed his eyes as she'd caressed his cheek with her thumb, but at the end of her sentence, he cracked one eye open, that same wicked little smirk curving into place along the contours of his thin mouth. "Oh, you were under the impression that I was concerned for you? How unfortunate that my actions have been so misleading. You see, I woke with the sole intention of ensuring that Taka was sleeping soundly." He was joking in his own weird, offbeat little way, but to anyone that didn't know him as well as she did, he might have actually sounded half-serious.

"Pffft, whatever, bird boy," she muttered, unable to help it as she cracked a rueful grin. Quickly, she leaned in and pressed a chaste little kiss to the tip of his nose, saying, "It's time to get some shut-eye. I hope you and Taka sleep well, and I'll see you in the morning."

"Mmhm."

"Good night, Simon."

"Hmph" was his articulate response.

Stifling more laughter, Athena grinned cheekily to herself and nestled in closer to him, fingers tracing along the curve of his back. Eventually, his arms twined their way around her, as well, one hand finding the small of her back, the other resting comfortably in the space between her shoulders. It wasn't long at all before the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest indicated that he'd fallen asleep once again. Panic laid to rest at last, Athena's eyelids drooped, heavy as lead, and the whispers of his heart lulled her back to sleep once again.