Chapter Text
Jupiter let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes harshly before reopening them.
He put the book he’d been reading to the side (if one could read by reading the same paragraph over and over, while memories you didn’t want to think about played on repeat in the back of your mind) before taking his glasses off as well.
Far off in the distance, he could see both Saturn and Uranus talking together. And much, much further away, almost too far away to see, he could barely spot Neptune at the edge of the Kuiper Belt, staring off into the distance. He was completely still, almost weirdly so, and Jupiter furrowed his brow, considering—for several moments—of heading over to make sure Neptune was alright. He took a half-step forward—and then Neptune suddenly reacted to something near him, a smile growing on his face as he wiggled one hand, waving merrily at something.
Jupiter felt his own smile grow when he realized that it had to be Neptune’s moons.
At least he wasn’t alone. That was always good.
His own moons were all sitting in their orbits. Most of them were asleep, but he could see his Galilean moons were all gathered together in a bunch, whispering to each other. He also considered talking to them for a moment before discarding the idea. They looked busy, after all. He didn’t want to unduly interfere with whatever they were talking about.
Instead, he drifted out of his orbit, waving a hand at the four of them when they looked over in a silent You’re good.
He glided closer to the asteroid belt and folded his arms over his chest, taking in a deep breath before calling out.
“Mars?”
He wasn’t sure exactly where in his orbit Mars would be, but Jupiter was pretty sure that he’d be near this point, and his assumption was proven correct as Mars slowly floated above the asteroid belt, the same withdrawn look on his face that all of the rocky planets wore these days.
“Hey, Jupiter.” His voice was quieter than normal.
Jupiter sent him a tired smile. “I just wanted to check in on all of you. Is everything okay?”
Mars looked down at his feet, crossing his arms over his chest as he let out a brief sigh.
His two moons were sitting on one of his shoulders, leaning against each other and sleeping; when he finally looked up at Jupiter again, his eyes were sad. “I mean, it’s like usual. Luna still won’t leave Earth’s orbit. I tried to drag him out the other day and just got this.” Mars showed him his arm; angry red marks trailed down it, seemingly still irritated. “Venus is Venus. I’ve been hanging out with him a lot more, but it’s just weird without… you know, without Earth there. Mercury’s taken to trying to help out Luna. I don’t know if he’s really taken a second to just sit and think about it himself, and I’m not looking forward to the day he finally does. And Sun…” Mars sighed again, throwing a brief glance behind his back. “He’s a lot quieter. I’m sure you’ve noticed he’s finally stopped yelling about us leaving our orbits.”
“I did notice that. Is he…?” Jupiter trailed off, not sure what he was even trying to ask.
“I mean, none of us are really doing great, but the Sun’s really taken it hard. All of us saw him trying to catch Earth while that other sun just barreled through the system, right?” Jupiter nodded, discontent rising in his core at the memory. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that angry. And you and I both know that he tracked Earth through the entire system until he literally couldn’t anymore – and ever since then, he’s just been sort of catatonic. Mercury’s tried to talk to him. I know you’ve tried to talk to him a couple of times. I don’t know. Nothing’s the same anymore.”
Mars rubbed his hand across his forehead, and Jupiter could tell he was reaching the end of his rope.
Letting his shoulders drop, Jupiter pushed through the asteroid belt and laid a hand on Mars’s shoulder, careful not to jostle him too much to accidentally wake up his moons.
“Thank you, Mars,” he said, keeping his voice quiet. “Just rest, alright? It’s a hard time for everyone.”
“I know. I will. And… Jupiter? I think you really need to talk to Luna. He’s not doing well.”
Jupiter nodded at Mars, finally gliding past him as he let a frown cross his face.
It was time to talk to the Sun… or at least try to talk to him.
He’d been acting weird ever since Earth’s ejection (which was nothing if not understandable; sometimes Jupiter was amazed he was able to act as normal as he was, but still the reminder sometimes invaded every corner of his thoughts until he could do nothing but think about how he had failed), but the rest of his system was still here, and Jupiter knew that Sun would need to… not move on like nothing had happened, that was almost impossible, but at least push past it and act like their star again. He’d taken another bout of solar flares over the suspicious quiet they’d been dealing with.
Jupiter couldn’t see Venus, Mercury, or Luna anywhere on this side of the solar system, so he assumed that they were on the other side. He made a mental note to check in on them, sighing for what felt like the millionth time.
There was too much grief in this solar system lately, but Jupiter had no idea how to even start healing it.
The closer he got to the Sun, the warmer it got, until Jupiter finally pushed up his sleeves and started fanning himself. He really didn’t like coming this close to the Sun, but he also didn’t want to just leave him to ruminate and blame himself.
(Especially not when he blamed himself too).
Gliding to a stop, Jupiter crossed his arms over his chest and called out, “Sun?”, waiting.
There was a sudden flash of light, and the Sun’s humanoid form appeared in front of him.
Jupiter arched an eyebrow, not expecting that at all.
“Jupiter!” he shouted, leaning forward, hands cradled under his jaw. “I’ve been needing to talk to you about something. How funny is it that you come over here now?!” His voice was strained; Jupiter could tell he was faking the cheerfulness in his voice, but he just ignored it for now. Pointing it out would do nothing but cause more grief.
“I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” he said, carefully, “You haven’t been responding to anyone. I know you’re worrying some of the rocky planets—”
“Oh, everything’s going to be fine, Jupiter! Don’t worry about that. I have something I need you to do.”
A little miffed at being interrupted, Jupiter thinned his mouth as he looked up at the Sun.
“What is it?” he sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead.
“Erebus is leaving his orbit—”
“What?” Jupiter interrupted before he could stop himself. The Sun shot him a harsh look, but Jupiter shook his head, too confused and disturbed to let it slide. “No, Sun, you can’t just drop this on me. What do you mean, Erebus is leaving his orbit?” He shot an anxious look behind himself. “He’s that close to the Solar System, that you can sense him?”
“He has been for a while, Jupiter. I know where all of my planets are—”
The Sun cut himself off, a pained look coming across his face, and Jupiter felt a stab of grief in his own core as he knew exactly what the Sun was remembering. “Just—just go to Erebus. He’s over there, in that general area. I’m sure he’ll have moved by the time you get over there.” The Sun pointed towards the Kuiper Belt, in the same direction Jupiter had just come from, an annoyed look in his eyes. “And tell him to stop going far enough that I lose track of him. I’m not losing track of anymore of my planets.” He turned back around, another flash of light revealing his spherical form, and Jupiter sighed, knowing the conversation was over.
That was so useful... not.
He rubbed his fingers against his forehead, willing away the sudden headache. Then he stiffened.
What was Erebus planning?
Jupiter turned around and headed back to his orbit, even faster than he’d originally gone. When he passed Mars’s orbit, he saw him glance up, a concerned expression on his face, but Jupiter just shook his head and continued on.
Discontent burrowed deep into his core, and the frown on his face deepened.
He still felt bad about ejecting Erebus—but at the same time, if he was planning something, it needed to be stopped now. The Solar System had dealt with enough grief lately. Jupiter couldn’t handle anymore.
Nobody could handle anymore.
He passed his orbit and his moons, ignoring the concerned looks they’d thrown him (identical to Mars’s, he thought with the slightest of smiles, before wiping it off his face again). He passed into Saturn’s orbit. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Saturn move—still mid conversation with Uranus—turning to stare at him, but he ignored that too.
He could talk to Saturn later. All that mattered was getting to where the Sun had pointed him before Erebus could leave.
The closer he got to the Kuiper Belt, the more apprehension that settled over his core.
He wasn’t exactly scared of Erebus, but the idea of actually speaking to him after billions of years of avoiding the notion, of avoiding the mistake he’d made, of avoiding even the mere thought was… it was unsettling. It didn’t help that it had just been thrust upon him without warning, and the realization that the Sun had known Erebus was this close for who knows how long made Jupiter want to shake him and ask him exactly what he was thinking… but he also knew that if he did that, it would not end well for him.
The realization abruptly drew on him that maybe he hadn’t been unjustly paranoid during the orbit change (which was what felt like forever ago now… and which Jupiter had to stop thinking about before he accidentally reminded himself of Earth). Perhaps Erebus actually had been watching.
But why?
To make him paranoid? To watch him fall apart remembering what he’d done? To—
Shaking his head and clearing his thoughts away, Jupiter continued gliding forward until he hit the point where the Kuiper Belt started, and slowed to a stop. This was… not exactly the point of no return, but the point where everything changed.
Jupiter hadn’t spoken to Erebus in billions of years. He’d thought he’d never return. He’d thought that he and Saturn—
He’d thought of Erebus often, but thoughts about the other planet were nothing like the idea of actually speaking to him.
Sucking in a deep breath, Jupiter closed his eyes. Just go, Jupiter, he told himself.
He let out a sharp exhale at the same time that he opened his eyes, pushing aside the spike of unease.
Treading forward, Jupiter glanced around. Erebus could be anywhere—he could be within the Kuiper Belt, outside of it—and for all Jupiter knew, in the time it took for him to get from the Sun to the Kuiper Belt, Erebus had completely moved on. He continued gazing around at every inch of the Kuiper Belt, reaching out with his gravity at the same time.
He’d see Erebus, hear him, or feel him with his gravity. Either way, he’d find him.
As he stepped past the Kuiper Belt, looking out into open space, Jupiter felt his core contract with a sudden bolt of pain.
Earth was out there. Alone. Awake or not, it certainly had to be a horrid thing for him to deal with.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he rubbed at his forehead, pushing the thoughts aside before they could overwhelm him. He wasn’t here to think about Earth, he was here to—
“Jupiter?”
Jupiter immediately recognized the voice.
His core skipped a beat with a wave of unease that passed through, and his hands stiffened at his side as he whipped around. Erebus looked different. His hair was much longer and entirely covered one side of his face, but Jupiter could still see, with a slight pain in his chest, the edge of the scar that slashed across his eye. His eyes were dark, eyebrows furrowed in surprise as he looked at him. He obviously hadn't expected him.
“Erebus,” he finally said, hoping his voice sounded far more measured to Erebus than it did to himself. “The Sun told me you were here.”
He reigned in all of his emotions, setting his shoulders back, equally hoping he appeared far more confident than he actually was.
“Oh, the prodigal planet finally deigns to talk to the one he ejected billions of years ago?”
Erebus threw his hands in the air, waving his fingers – his tone was thick with sarcasm, and Jupiter frowned.
“Technically, by the definition of prodigal, that’d be you, Erebus,” he couldn’t help but reply.
Erebus rolled his eyes and turned around, shoulders hiked up. “Oh, yeah, because that’s so important. What do you want?”
“The Sun sent me to tell you something,” he said, waiting until Erebus turned back around to look at him. “But what are you doing here? I thought—” I thought we ejected you, he didn’t say. I thought we’d lost you forever. “Why are you this close? If you’re planning… planning revenge or anything, I just—you can’t. The Solar System can’t handle it. I know you’re angry about your ejection, and you deserve to feel that anger, but after everything that happened recently, I cannot allow you to do anything that would hurt us more.”
Erebus’s expression tightened with every word he said, his lip curling.
He was the picture of anger, of annoyance, of every negative emotion that ever existed.
Jupiter knew he deserved it.
“Us?” Erebus questioned, peering at him, eyes dark and fathomless. “Us? I knew you’d ejected me, but I didn’t think you’d already completely forgotten that this is my home too, you—you—” He cut himself off with a frustrated sound. “No,” he finally forced out, teeth bared. “I’m not planning anything. I’m literally just trying to survive out here. This is the closest I’ve come to the Solar System in fucking ages!”
Jupiter took a step back, something painful stabbing through his core.
“Even after billions of years, you haven’t changed. You still see me as nothing but—but something to be dealt with.”
No, Jupiter wanted to refute. I have changed. I have. I changed in penance, and I’ve done everything in the name of making up for the biggest mistake I ever made.
He didn’t say that, just pressed his lips together and met Erebus’s gaze head-on.
“Why don’t you leave me alone?” Erebus snapped. “It’s obviously been pretty easy for you to do for billions of years.”
“I—”
Jupiter frowned again, stopping his sentence before he’d even really said anything. He wasn't even sure what he wanted to say. Something in him just felt horribly, horribly off. Horribly wrong. He hooked his hands together and squeezed them so tightly it hurt before ripping away the bandage on the wound that’d festered for years.
“Listen, Erebus,” he said, brow knitting. “I’m sorry.”
Erebus’s eyes widened.
He took a half-step backward, clearly shocked, before he shook his head harshly and froze in place. “Oh? Oh? You’re sorry? You’re sorry?!” His voice shook slightly, strained with anger; Jupiter knit his brows as he stared at Erebus. “If you were really sorry, you wouldn’t have let me languish out here, past the fucking Solar System! I’ve been here for BILLIONS OF YEARS!” His voice only grew louder as he stalked forward, fury clear in every line of his body. Jupiter didn’t move, letting the distance between them grow ever smaller. “You couldn’t regret it if someone forced you to.” His expression spasmed. “And neither would Saturn.”
“Of course I regret it, Erebus, who do you think I am?” He fought back a shudder, his entire body angled towards Erebus. “I’m not the planet I used to be. I’ve changed.” Because of what I did to you. Whether it was an accident or not. Because of how much I regretted it.
Erebus stepped just the tiniest bit closer, his furious, fathomless blue eyes looking straight up at him. Despite the fact that his head was tilted nearly all the way back, he still somehow managed to look fearsome. “If you’ve changed now, why couldn’t you change back then? Why did I have to get ejected before you realized the consequences of your actions?” He jabbed a finger into Jupiter’s chest, hard enough that Jupiter had to take a slight step back to relieve the pressure. “I didn’t deserve that—and you know it.”
“We were wrong, okay? Saturn and I made a mistake!”
Jupiter wrapped a hand around Erebus’s wrist. His skin was shockingly cold underneath his fingers, almost painful to the touch.
Erebus ripped away, still wearing a horribly angry scowl.
“That mistake got me ejected from the Solar System and stuck in isolation for billions of years! You’re lucky I’m not insane or worse off! The only thing I got stuck with was a simmering hatred for you and Saturn. And you know what the worst part is, Jupiter?” Erebus took a couple more steps back, his scowl dropping into a harrowing expression for a mere second before it reappeared, stronger than ever. “I admired you and Saturn! I l—”
He abruptly stopped talking, his voice seeping with frustration.
Jupiter frowned. He almost took a step forward, but stopped just in time, too aware that it wasn’t the best choice in the moment.
“Well, I’m sorry,” he repeated, putting as much emphasis as he could in his tone. “I’m sorry, Erebus. I really am.”
Erebus’s face spasmed again, an unidentifiable emotion passing over his features as Jupiter watched, before he looked him directly in the eyes again as his jaw worked with anger. “Too little, too late, Jupiter. Besides, where’s Saturn? He did it too.”
“Right here.”
Saturn’s voice rang out behind him, and Jupiter turned to see him melt out of the shadows of the Kuiper Belt.
He arched an eyebrow, not even aware that Saturn had followed him. Saturn just gave him a look in response, stepping in next to him.
Erebus took another half-step back, his arms folding over his chest like a defense mechanism.
Jupiter frowned again, hand moving up to massage between his eyebrows as the slightest of stress spilled in. “Listen, Erebus,” he finally said, after a moment. “Saturn and I both regret what we did.” He paused, seeing Erebus about to talk again. “No. Just let me say this, and then you’re free to leave. I promise. I won’t bother you anymore.”
Erebus’s eyes flashed with another unreadable emotion.
Like your promises mean anything, Jupiter could almost hear him say.
Jupiter waited until he gave a jerky nod before continuing to speak. Saturn remained a comforting presence next to him.
“We both regret what we did,” he said, slowly. “It was wrong. We shouldn’t have done it.”
Erebus just stared at him. Jupiter could see his hands flexing against his arms, his gaze darting between them every couple of seconds. “And we definitely should have reached out to you before billions of years passed.” Jupiter shuffled in place, something like a heavy weight on his chest. “But we didn’t. And the solar system is in a… fragile place. So right now, I need you to just stay close, and don’t wander.”
Erebus scowled, the side of his lip curling up. “Why? Is this about that planet that got ejected? How unlucky of him.”
Jupiter gritted his teeth as a sudden wave of discontent rolled over him, clenching his fists tight at his sides. “No. I’m not— Erebus, don’t mention that.”
“Fine,” Erebus said after a moment, looking down as if he realized that he was serious about it. Then his gaze drew to Saturn, and another unreadable emotion flooded into his eyes, another scowl directly following it. “You know, Saturn, why don’t you apologize, too, then? If you regret it so much.”
Saturn’s beaming smile fell, and Jupiter watched as his eye twitched just the fraction. “I am… sorry.” The words left his mouth like he was being forced to say them, and Jupiter pressed his hand onto Saturn’s back until he darted a look at him. He slightly raised his eyebrows, and Saturn responded by closing his eyes and then looking at Erebus again. “Fine. Erebus, I am sorry that we ejected you.”
“Yes, because that sounded so truthful.” Erebus rolled his eyes, his arms tightening across his chest.
“It is!” Saturn crossed his own arms across his chest in a mirror of Erebus’s actions. “I’m telling the truth. It’s not my fault you can’t hear it.”
Jupiter breathed out a heavy sigh, massaging between his eyebrows again. Just great.
“Erebus, just please stay close to the solar system this time. The Sun’s not in a good mood these days, and if you go any farther than your orbit, he will get mad.” Erebus narrowed his eyes at him but gave a jerky nod before turning around and leaving, disappearing back through the Kuiper Belt like he’d never even been there—but his presence hung heavy over him, and Jupiter felt weighed down by an uncontrollable discomfort.
He turned to look at Saturn. “Seriously?” he said after a second, arching one eyebrow.
Saturn just shrugged, no remorse in his expression at all. “I am sorry,” he said. “I just… I don’t know if I can say it to him. Not right now."
Jupiter frowned. He was definitely going to talk to Saturn about that sometime soon. But for now, they needed to get back to the Solar System… and he needed to ask the Sun a couple of questions.