Disclaimer: Disclaimed
Warning/s: Language
Song choice: Let the River In - Radical Face
Prompts courtesy of a glimmer in the night, for the Secret Santa fic exchange at the Of Prompts and Challenges forum. (This is where I shamelessly plug.) Merry Christmas to you, Sunny, and other dedication stuff that I have absolutely no idea how to write.
Ruined Friendship.
The sun moves each and every time Silena snaps her head to the left, where the sun is her mother playing coy behind the ugly men and outlandish pink dresses. Hir lips are wet and there could be some blood from where the drakon spat— definitely on her hands—, ruining her skin (but for once she didn't care) and her armor might as well not be there; she could be run through at any moment and it would end (not that it wasn't going to, anyway). But Silena floats through the streets, eluding the sharp words of her old friends and the accusing crescent around her own damn neck. She almost goes helter-skelter, rapid breaths against her own ears, her heart beating with life even when her body is dead. It is strange escaping when there is no one to look at you but the amber sun.
Later on, she skids to a stop and, maybe, laments to the lovely source of happiness she once had.
Poison.
Breathe in, breathe out.
It's a stupid moment right there, because he's gonna die anyway, and it's not like the pain is physical. He throws his sword over his shoulder. It lands next to his father's throne, ironically. His blood drips and his eyes burn, and where was his father? It's one in the afternoon but it's freezing, and he doesn't like it.
It's even more stupid when he hopes that his friends will forgive him. It's a world of oddity when he can't let go of sins done to him but expects his friends to jump back at him. Kronos was a poison, diluting his mind with puffed-up goals that would never be achieved. This must be an after effect.
Licking his parched lips, he looks into Percy's eyes. He frowns because he is Luke Castellan, and he doesn't back down and he thinks it wouldn't be in character.
But he tells him anyway.
Stained Glass Windows.
Some days, when Drew asked for him or when he wanted to, he'd walk to her house and spend hours in the 'fort'. He'd answer her questions, she'd answer his (they were mostly awkward, but they were young and foolish). They'd talk if they felt like it, and when it fell silent they would leap to another subject. It was like a game, and it was supposed to be fun.
It seemed a forever ago, when she'd laugh and he'd laugh and they were friends.
Times had changed and lives had changed, but he never forgets his cousin. He sits down, sometimes, and listens to bittersweet songs and read bittersweet books.
In one book, the heroes best friend falls into a pit, and the company sits in grief on the rocks. Ethan wonders if that's what Drew is doing right now. He wonders if she would be happier if he was alive.
(It's a world in glimpses now, but somehow it's more comforting this way.)
Once, he and Drew stood outside a church, staring at the ornate windows. It was a peaceful moment, and he's glad he can revisit it before he dies.
Wind rustles. He holds onto that image, because it's a good one and a happy one and it'll be something to hold onto in the Fields of Punishment.
The world is brighter with stained glass windows. Colors swirl everywhere.
Let the river in
If blood is thicker than water
Then let the river in
We might drift a ways but we'll find our way again
A/N: I have this headcanon where Ethan and Drew are cousins. Err...don't favorite without reviewing, please.