He clutches me, without words or judgment as I get my shit back together. Wiping my face on my sleeves, I take a step back from him. He searches my face, his eyes raking over each stitch holding my skin together and lingering on what I can only guess are the already blooming bruises on my temple and down the side of my cheek.
He holds my stare for a long moment, so much unspoken passing between us in those heavy seconds. Sucking in a loud breath, he squares his shoulders. “What do you need?”
I sink my teeth into my quivering bottom lip, afraid I’m going to fall apart all over again. Artemis grabs me by my arms, though I don’t know if it’s to hold me up or focus my attention.
“¿Qué es, hermano?”
What is it, indeed? My throat is dry, scratchy, and tears burn my eyelids as I blink them away.“La quiero.”The words burst from me on a fractured breath as I tell my brother I love my best friend.
His face softens, sympathy etched in his features.“Lo sé.”He pops my shoulder with his fist. He knows. “It took you long enough to figure it out.” Then he winces when he must realize that I hurt all over.
The weight on my chest doesn’t ease with his attempt at lightening the mood. “They won’t tell me... I don’t know... I can’t...” I grab my hair, ignoring the bite of pain radiating through my scalp and start to pace all over again.
Artemis grabs me again, shaking me until I stop muttering and moving. Everything fucking hurts, especially my heart.
“Why won’t they let you see her?”
Casting my gaze over his face for signs of humor, I swallow. “I’m not family.”
“You didn’t tell them you were her fiancé or something?”
I press the heel of my hand to my temple, the pounding in my ears almost too much to bear. I definitely need meds, even if they fuck me up and make me spacey. He’s right, I should have made something up, but in the moment... I guess I was too tangled up in panic and fear to come up with a plausible story to get me inside the room. Terror and logic aren’t the easiest combination of things to navigate.
I’m clearly not the twin you should want in a crisis.
Shaking my head, I swallow again, the stubborn dryness in my mouth refusing to abate.
“Then let’s go tell them thatIam.”
Hell no. I’m not letting him get through those doors before me. I’ll tell them I was in shock or something, convince them I really do belong in the room with her.
I follow Artemis for a few steps before my feet stutter to a stop. I can’t. I... tendrils of terror coil around my ribs, crushing my chest and squeezing the oxygen from my body. What if she doesn’t wake up?
My hands shake by my sides.
What if she’s already dead and no one has found me to tell me?
What if—?
Artemis’s palms cradle my cheeks as he forces me to look at him. “She’s alive, do you hear me?”
I try to nod, but he didn’t see her, he didn’t hear her screams as they cut her from the crumpled body of my car.
“Apollo, I know you’re scared.” His eyes meet mine, his hands shaking as he holds my cheeks. Sadness is heavy in his features. He can relate to my fear in this moment. When he got to the hospital he probably had no idea whether I was alive or dead, either. “Trust me, I know.” He shakes his head as though trying to upend a memory he doesn’t want to linger on. “But she’s alive, and she needs you.”
The door swings open and my other two siblings shove into the room, launching themselves at me before Athena bursts into a string of Spanish cusswords as she berates me for almost dying on her. For all her bravado and badassery, my sister is soft for only three things in this world, and we’re all standing around her in this room.
I can count on one hand how many times I’ve seen her this emotional. She grabs my hand, threading her fingers between mine and squeezes. I’ve also never seen Ares this quiet. It’s unnerving. He keeps casting furtive glances in Athena’s direction but doesn’t say anything out loud.
He’s got a bug up his ass about something. My Spidey sense tells me it has nothing to do with the fact someone almost killed me and my very alive, not-at-all dead, and soon-to-be-girlfriend-slash-wife earlier tonight. Athena shakes her head at me when I catch her attention. It can wait, her face says. It’s not important. And I trust her judgment, especially when my own is impaired.
She takes a step back and surveys me, head to toes and all the way back up again. “Damage report?”
Artemis snorts. “Yes, Lieutenant. Give the Captain a status report, would you?”
“Cuts and bruises.” Jutting my chin out to her as if to prove a point, I crack a smile that hurts all the way to my core. “I’m fine, Hen. I’m okay.”
She narrows her gaze like she doesn’t believe me. I don’t blame her since I don’t quite believe me either. “And Edith?”
