The Messiah [1]

22: Athena

Athena sat in the bed of an old truck, her spine slamming against the harsh metal as Grayson hit what had to be the millionth pothole. She and Jax sat in the back, while Iris rode in the front, giving them some time to be alone. They were both bundled in thick dark green jackets with a poofy black fur lining around the hood. It helped against the harsh wind whipping around them, but it did nothing against the chill gathering in the pit of her stomach.

"What's wrong?" Jax asked, his voice pitched low so it carried easily over the foot between them.

It amazed Athena how in tune with each other's emotions they both seemed to have become. Just a month ago they had escaped the compound and begun their trek across the desolate land that had once been home to so many. In the beginning they had barely been able to stand each other, arguing over every single little thing that they could. Yet they still continued to argue, Athena knew without a doubt that she trusted him with her life. It was a testament to how close they had become that he could even tell now that she was upset.

"When I was captured..." She paused, unsure how to word the betrayal of her teammates, "I was a part of a team. There were four of us, but the boy in charge - his name was Dante - hated me. I don't know why, but he was always harassing me. I didn't usually give him the time of day, but...when the soldiers blew open the front door of the pharmacy we were raiding, a shelf collapsed on me. Dante - he saw me. But he didn't do anything...he just ran."

Finished, Athena pulled her legs against her chest, tucking her chin down and resting her forehead against her knees.

"Jeez, please tell me you're not crying." Jax joked, the familiar weight of his hand coming to rest on her shoulder, "If you point him out to me when we get back, I can knock him out for you?"

The idea of Jax 'Prince of the New World' punching Dante in the face popped into Athena's head, and the mental image forced a loud snort out of her. The snort turned into a giggle, which built into full blown clutch-your-side laughter.

"Hey - what's so funny?" Jax asked in fake irritation, a grin breaking across his face, "You don't think I could take him?"

Athena continued to laugh, using the sleeve of her jacket to wipe away the tears leaking from her eyes. Jax joined in a moment later, but he seemed to be laughing at her rather than whatever it was that made her laugh.

Eventually they both calmed down, rubbing their grinning faces in an attempt to get rid of the unfamiliar soreness.

"Thanks Jax," Athena sighed, twisting a lock of her hair, "When I first showed up there, everyone treated me like this ticking time bomb...but you don't. You don't even seem scared of me."

This time Jax laughed, "Don't get me wrong, Athena. You're scary when you want to be but you're not evil. I realized that when I first saw you. You had this wicked angry look in your eye, but there was something about you that didn't sit well with me. We were taught you were a monster... a killing machine trained by the rebels to be our destruction."

Jax shrugged, his arms stretched out along the side of the truck, "But you don't look evil. When I first came into your room you just looked...scared."

Athena remembered that moment vividly. Her door opening in the middle of the night, so silently she was sure someone was coming to kill her. She shivered, one hand raising up to sit atop Jax's.

"I vowed that I'd never be weak again." She whispered, "I promised myself that I would work hard, and train, so that I'd never feel so trapped again."

She felt a reassuring pressure as Jax squeezed her shoulder. Athena looked up, shocked to see that his face was a mask of pain, his brown eyes filled with a wetness she recognized.