She resists him pressing down on the gun for a moment, but not much of one. Athena tenses as he pulls her close, the hug feeling foreign. Briefly like a threat, before the familiarity of it settles around her shoulders. Jerkily, like a puppet who hasn't been oiled in a while, she lifts her arm to wrap it around him. Then she thumbs the safety onto the gun and drops it, the loose grip turning into a desperate cling.

"Fuck," she whispers. Athena presses her face against his chest. "Fuck. Fuck."

She shifts her arms to hang on tighter, her tone staying even in spite of her body language. "Jeff was never there. I don't know how, but someone found out what I am."