Page 103 of Serpent and Shadow

Then, suddenly, he was there, holding something in his hand.

It was a metal cup. Full of water.

Caelum didn’t think. Honestly, he couldn’t make himself say no to it, not even if he’d wanted to. He took the cold metal from those pale fingers and raised it to his lips, downing the contents in a few long, blissfully-relieved swallows. His throat burned so often down here, he barely noticed until it was gone.

When the boy took the cup from him and returned to the bucket by the mossy wall near the door, Caelum could only feel an intense gratitude that made him feel even guiltier.

He drank the second cup just as fast.

He usually only got water when they let him out.

Occasionally they would unchain him down here, and he’d dunk his whole head and mouth in that bucket, and drink until he couldn’t drink any more.

The bucket sat there all day and all night, full, enticing, under a trickling fountain coming from the moss-coated wall. The bucket slowly filled and filled until it overflowed, and all Bones could do was watch it drain into the stone floor. His chain wouldn’t let him reach where it was, so watching and listening to the steady trickle was its own form of slow madness.

Some nights, it was a form of torture.

He would have killed for someone to give him a cup of water some of those nights. He would have offered them a finger, or a new scar.

But now they’d made him dependent on the kid for that, too.

The thought brought his bile up again.

Anubis’s heart, his father wasn’t subtle, was he?

It was so transparently obvious what they were doing, but there was an inevitability to it, too, a sick genius Caelum couldn’t deny.

He had no one in here. No one.

He could pretend he didn’t need anyone, but that was a lie.

He needed the kid, and not only for cups of water that tasted like liquid fucking ambrosia. The kid needed him, too, or he would eventually. Malefic would shove them together and then his father would have another thing to use against him.

But even that wasn’t all of it.

The reality was, Caelum didn’t need to know Arcturus personally. That would make it worse, but him being Leda’s brother was already enough. He would have protected him anyway. He had protected him, from Sirena, from Orrin out in the field.

He’d wrapped his magic around him and warded all of them off.

The kid wouldn’t remember that, but Malefic would.

Malefic would definitely remember. Caelum was quite sure his father had been absolutely delighted when he saw.

So yeah, it was already too late.

Caelum couldn’t even lie to himself about doing the noble thing. There was no noble thing in this. Pushing Arcturus away now would just be an added cruelty. There was nothing kind or virtuous in denying the kid any comfort he could in a hell he, Caelum, had visited upon him. Maybe for the same reason, he grabbed the kid’s arm when he came back the third time.

“Thanks,” he said, looking up at those oddly familiar eyes.

The kid smiled, his expression heartbreakingly open.

He looked so relieved, it so eager to be friends.

Caelum physically winced, feeling another stab in his gut. Leda must have protected him from absolutely fucking everything. She’d taken on all the wariness, all the distrust and abandonment issues from what happened to them when they were young. She’d absorbed all of the responsibility, all the worry, all the guilt.

She’d taken it all on and left Arcturus relatively intact.

Caelum couldn’t even resent him for it. He looked at the kid, and he wanted to protect him, too.