"Apollo."
It was a begging whisper.
Percy was on the ground, numbly staring at the blood.
So much blood.
Tears fell down his face, yet he didn't notice.
"Apollo," he whispered again, begging for the god to answer him.
---
"Apollo."
It was a quiet call, a begging tone. And it was unmistakably Percy's voice.
Apollo froze.
"Apollo."
Apollo got up, worry clouding his thoughts.
---
There was a bright flash of light and Apollo stood in front of Percy. His eyes widened when he spotted the blood all over the house.
"Percy - are you alright?" Apollo asked quickly.
"'Pollo," Percy let out a quiet sob, wrapping his arms around the god.
"What happened? Percy, are you alright?" Apollo repeated urgently.
Percy simply kept sobbing in his arms.
---
After what seemed like hours - though realistically, around twenty minutes - Percy sniffled, wiping his tears away and straightening up.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled numbly.
"Don't apologize," Apollo said softly, taking Percy's hands in his.
"They're dead," Percy whispered.
Apollo didn't need to ask who - the blood in the house spoke for itself.
"Could you take me back to my cabin, please? I don't want to- I don't want to stay here," Percy asked pleadingly.
"Of course, Perce," Apollo gave him a small smile, flashing the two of them out into the Poseidon cabin.
Percy's knees buckled; he still felt weak from shock, and crying did nothing to help that.
Apollo caught him before he could fall, carrying him over to his bed and laying him down.
"Goodnight, seashell."
