“The One and Only” Ch. 8

Dionysus awoke to the sound snapping wood. Opening his eyes slowly, he found himself facing the night sky, a slight chill hitting him. Groaning as he moved, he settled himself onto his side, watching as Patricia broke and arranged sticks, an established fire growing. Without a word, he crawled over and settled himself next to her, slinging off his bag and pulling out another bottle.

”Don't you think you may have had enough?" she said plainly.

“I don't think a mortal should tell the god of wine to stop drinking. It is my purpose."

”You drink to forget," she responded in a similarly empty tone.

Dionysus looked at her. She noticed the silence and looked back at him.

“You talk in your sleep. I didn't think gods sleep. Or dream."

”They don't anymore."

The silence returned, the fire cracking and spitting in the space between. Patricia stopped fussing with the fire, drawing her legs up to he chin as she simply sat and watched the fire go. Dionysus went to drink, only to change his mind as he aggressively shoved it back into his bag.

”What were you dreaming about?"

He was silent for a moment. It was an action she was beginning to consider to be habitual.

“There was a satyr who accompanied me most places. He was a good sort. Always looking to bring a little distraction to people's lives..."

Patricia was staring at him, and he rolled his eyes as he continued. ”He saw the fall of the gods coming. A reaction to him being drunk was a talent for prophecy. He saw it coming and he never told me. But I could see it, especially in the days leading up to it."

“Why didn't he say anything?" she asked.

He shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe he thought that the fates couldn't be changed. He always found life so...tiresome. The pain. The suffering. He never wanted to add to that. I think he imagined that if he told me it would just make me feel worse for not being able to stop it."

“Did it help?”

“A little," he said.

She nodded. They sat like that for a little bit, the monotony interspersed with her adding wood to the fire. Finally she spoke, her tone nervous.

”I need to get back to town."

“What are you talking about?"

”I have to get back to town. My son is there. If that thing finds him...”

“He won't find him. No one remembers you. I made sure of that.”

It took her a moment before the reality dawned on her. “Wait..Are you telling me that you made my boy forget about me?"

Dionysus nodded.

In an instant she was upon him, slapping him across the face.

“You son of a bitch," she yelled. ”What the hell were you thinking?"

Dionysus tucked in his legs and pushed, sending her several feet away from him. It was enough to stop the fight as they both stood, looking at each other.

“Anyone who knows you is just a victim waiting to happen. Until Typhon is dealt with all you would be doing by having them know who you are is get them killed."

She was shaking, her fists clenched. ”Do you have any idea what you took from me?"

“Actually I fucking do," he yelled back. “All I did was save your kid. Mine weren't so lucky!"

Patricia fought back the tears in her eyes, as Dionysus sighed heavily.

Both tried to collect themselves.

“Listen.,” she said finally, in as calm a tone as she could muster. “Just tell me you can take it back."

He grimaced but nodded.

They awkwardly made their way back to the fire, sitting on opposite ends. The fire cracked, shooting sparks into the tree line.

“How are you going to take care of Typhon?" she asked at last.

Dionysus looked up from the fire, shrugging his shoulders. ”I don't know."

She felt her heart sink a little. She knew that he was going to answer that way. But some things will always have the same effect whether you suspect them or not.

“So that's it? My kid doesn't have his mom and I follow you around until Typhon finds me and kills me?"

“Seems so," he said dully.

“You can't be serious."

“And what exactly do you want me to do,” he seethed. ”Just pull a solution out of thin air? I am the god of theater. Of wine. Not of war."

“So what? You are just going to wander around, destroying lives as you go?"

“It's not exactly different from what I used to do."

“I am really starting to understand why you think you are the worst of them."

“No. You really have no idea."

”Try me,” she said firmly.

“One of my cousins outlawed my worship in his kingdom. He said I wasn't a god. Wouldn't let the women perform my rights. So I punished him. The women went fucking insane, performing orgies of drink and sex and violence in my name. They spilled into the hills around the city. I could hear their screams. Then I came to the king, still convinced I was just some mortal. I brought him out into the hills, to where the women had gathered.

He tried to bring them back to their senses. So I had them see him as he really was. A dumb animal. So they tore off his skin. Pulled his limbs from his body. It was his mother who put his head on a pike and paraded it through the city. Only then did I release them. And they were horrified at what they did. And despite what I made them do they worshiped me all the same."

She was silent. But only momentarily.

”Are you trying to scare me? I'm already scared."

“No. I'm not. But you need to wake up. I'm not going to save you or the world. I don't know how to and I sure as hell don't have to. Not because I'm a god. But because I just don't care. Not about you. Or your son."

“Then why are you protecting him?"

“Because life is full of suffering. If I can I won't add to it. That is all I can do. And I don't need your damn approval."

They were both tired of the inevitable silence between. But they hated to fill it. Neither of them wanted to think or talk anymore. And so when Dionysus reached into his bag and pulled out the bottle, Patricia didn't hesitate to accept it. He retrieved a bottle of his own, and let himself get lost in the firelight. Patricia just drank and stared. She hadn't noticed before but he looked tired, his body trembling. And it came as a genuine surprise to her when she realized he was shaking because of the cold.