Chapter Two

207 21 2
                                    

A/N: For now, please ignore the fact that they are living in a shack for no apparent reason this was a shitty idea i will fix it in editing.

With that said, pls go on reading!

***

"THIS IS THE WORST SHACK you've ever built, little brother,” Pollux commented from his seat at the picnic table. They had decided, after a lengthy search of New York, that no available apartments would suit their purposes (hiding from eleven angry gods). Castor had wanted to check somewhere else for secluded apartments, but, naturally, Pollux wouldn't have any of that. Pollux had to bring out the ancient Greek inside him, and build a shack. Castor didn't understand Pollux's obsession with shacks, and he didn't want to either, but he knew he didn't like it.

To make it worse, Pollux didn't actually know how to build a shack, so Castor was stuck doing the heavy- lifting. Useless Greek Gods.

“Shut up. You've never built a single thing in your life.” he retorted. In retrospect, his shack wasn't so bad, it just wasn't finished yet. “And I am not your little brother. Have we not made that clear?”

“Little brother, you will always be my little brother, whether you were actually born after me or not.” Pollux said. “Wow, that was poetic. Maybe I should be a poet,”

“Please spare us all and don't,” Castor replied. The walls of his so -called shack were built. It was about the size of a master bathroom, which was to say, small. It was made out of a couple of wooden planks he had bought on craigslist, and a bunch of badly hammered nails from Home Depot. His toolkit had survived the explosion, and was in fact, the only thing that had survived the explosion, along with the apple cutter that Pollux had been using, that they threw away. Pollux had said it gave him “bad memories of the abuse he'd endured”. Castor had called him an idiot.

And really, Pollux was an idiot. He'd taken them – by means of fancy godly transport that Castor still didn't understand – to the most ridiculous woods in the middle of nowhere, where the trees were thin and didn't protect them much at all. Really, Castor didn't know what he had been thinking.

“Can you hand me that board over there?” Castor asked, gesturing at the plank of wood by Pollux's feet, not looking up from his work.

When Pollux didn't respond, Castor looked up only to see Pollux eating munchkins. Munchkins, for god's sake.

“Pollux, where the hell did you get those?” Castor asked, looking at him incredulously.

“There's a nearby Dunkin' Donuts,” Pollux said. “Can you believe, the lady was so nice when I asked her for munchkins. I was looking for little people to eat, but she gave me these, which are even better!”

“Jesus Christ,” Castor muttered under his breath. “Why don't you stop blowing our money on snacks and help me out a little here?”

Pollux heaved a sigh. “But, these are so good...”

“Pollux!”

“Alright, fine,” Pollux set the box of munchkins on the ground delicately. “But I'm getting back to those munchkins as soon as we're done. I can't believe I've never eaten those before! There were Dunkin' Donutses everywhere in New York!”

“Right,” Castor said, not really listening. “Can you hold this up while I... Pollux, NO!”

There was a loud cracking sound as Pollux stepped directly on Castor's phone. “Oops,” Pollux said.

Castor dropped the hammer and ran over to pick up what was left of his phone. “Oh no,” he murmured. The glass was shattered, the casing cracked, and the phone was left completely unusable. “I had Melissa's number on there,”

DivinityWhere stories live. Discover now