Title: Inseparable
Author: hardboiledbaby
Fandom: Greek Myth + Alias Smith and Jones
Pairing/Characters: Castor/Pollux, Kid Curry/Hannibal Heyes
Rating: PG
Length: 1,120 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for the "Mythology" challenge. A sequel to Dioscuri. The primary storyline is Castor/Pollux (not a crossover) and can be read as a standalone, I think. Also, there are many variations of the Gemini myth, I have shamelessly cobbled together a version to suit the story. :) Beta'd by sc_fossil, who is ever faithful, ever true. All remaining errors are mine alone.
Summary: There's kith and there's kin, Grandpa had said, and then there's something else entirely.

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"Hey Kid. I ever tell you the story about Gemini?" Heyes reached up and framed the two brightest stars in that cluster with his hands. "See there? That's Castor and Pollux...."



Kid listened, nodded in all the right places, and kept his good arm wrapped around his partner's shoulders as the words wound down and Heyes finally fell asleep.

It hadn't occurred to Heyes to ask first if Kid knew the tale. Which was just as well, really, Kid thought amusedly. He would have been hard pressed to explain about Grandpa Curry and his choice of bedtime stories.

Granted, Kid didn't recall much about the classical literature that the old man had been so fond of. He'd been very young and the strange names and fantastical tales that lulled him to sleep were usually forgotten by the next morning. But he'd remembered Castor and Pollux.

There's kith and there's kin, Grandpa had said, and then there's something else entirely.




They were twins and yet half-brothers, in that otherworldly way in which such things were possible. Castor was the son of a mortal, and thus mortal himself. Pollux, son of Zeus, was divine. Yet despite this fundamental difference, they were connected beyond the obligation of any familial bonds, together in all things, always.

Until Castor died.

They were in battle, so the story went, and Castor was struck a fatal blow as he called out a warning to his brother. Despite all Pollux's power, there was naught he could do to save Castor, for even demigods have their limits. Heartbroken and inconsolable, Pollux carried the lifeless body of his soul mate to Mount Olympus and sought out an audience with his father.

Zeus studied his son, who still held Castor protectively in his arms. Blood covered them both: Castor's chest, Pollux's hands and face. The blood was dry, the body cold, and yet Pollux would not let go.

"Surely you knew this would come to pass one day," Zeus said, not unkindly. "In the end, your paths would have diverged: his to cross the river Styx, yours to return here. It is ever so, when an immortal loves a mortal."

"Of what use is immortality, then?" Pollux said bitterly, desolated and desperate. He paused, horrified at the stretch of empty, useless, hateful years—centuries—ahead, and slowly sank to his knees and lowered his head. "I cannot live like this, without him."

"You would rather die?" Zeus asked, and Pollux's head jerked up. Renouncing divinity: it was practically unheard of.

Pollux smiled grimly, his eyes bright and avid. "Gladly."

Zeus nodded slowly. "Then perhaps there is yet something that can be done."

He was, after all, ruler of the Olympians, King of the Gods. Nobility had its privileges.




There were consequences, of course, nobility notwithstanding. Accounts had to be settled, penalties paid, balances achieved.

The cost was high.

Pollux was only profoundly grateful he had the means to pay it.

Castor had been furious at first. "You gave away your immortality, your birthright. Did you really think I wanted you to do that?"

"Do not be angry with me," Pollux begged. "It was never wholly mine. We had always shared everything but this. You are my birthright, my twin, the other half of who I am and all that I desire. This is your truth as much as it is mine. You would have done the same in my place, you cannot deny it." Castor made to turn his head, but Pollux cupped his face between his hands and held his gaze. "You died to save me, but my salvation is with you. I brought you back, not because I could, but because I could do nothing else. Now our fates are irrevocably intertwined, as it should be. Please, do not be angry with me for setting that right."

Castor sighed and raised his own hands to grip the back of Pollux's neck and brought their foreheads together. "No, I cannot deny it, brother mine. I died to save you, and I do not regret it. I will not regret it, ever."

Pollux shuddered.

This too was part of the price, for Hades guarded his realm jealously and did not relinquish his subjects without a forfeit, despite Zeus' intervention. Their existence henceforth would be split. By day, they belonged to Hades and the Underworld. It was only at night that they would be released. They neither of them could live as they had before, in the days when they walked the earth as free men.

Pollux leaned into Castor's strength and whispered, "Forgive me."

Castor shook him gently. "Did you not hear me? I have no regrets. One death or a thousand, a million or more: it makes no difference. So long as we are together, there is nothing to forgive. Besides," he added with a beguiling smile, "Zeus has promised us the heavens!" His eyes were alight with wonder and excitement. "It is more than I could have ever hoped for."

Pollux felt his heart lift with relief, even anticipation. This would be enough, more than enough. He embraced Castor and took his hand.

"Then let us go, beloved. Our adventure awaits among the stars."




Castor and Pollux became known as Dioscuri, Grandpa said. "Sons of Zeus," a distinction that was applied only to them, even though Zeus had many other sons. One name for them both, which was fitting, for they were inseparable. Neither fully mortal nor divine, they forged a path that was theirs alone, and it would serve them well all their lives, until the stars burn out and grow cold.




Kid watched as dawn's first blush began to glow on the horizon. The stars were no longer visible in the sky. The sons of Zeus were crossing the Styx again.

There's kith and there's kin, and then there's something else entirely.

Kid laughed quietly to himself. Grandpa had been a sly old fox, no question.

It was not a "happily ever after" story; at least, not the kind that Kid's mama used to tell. No, the old man's myths rarely ended nice and neat and easy-like. Yet, what with the War and its aftermath, it turned out that Grandpa and his oh-so-human Greek gods were right. Life wasn't kind; it was indifferent at best, and all too often unbearably cruel. Happily ever afters were not easily come by, even in the best of times.

But....

Kid looked down at the man who lay against him, holding him tightly even as he slept. Tethered together, body and soul.

He pressed a light kiss against the tousled brown hair. Heyes murmured something but didn't awaken. Kid smiled and closed his eyes.

It was enough, more than enough.