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𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
SOMEHOW, IN A STROKE OF PURE LUCK, Elia managed to pry Percy off of her long enough for her to duck into one of the hotel rooms with Jack, leaving the son of Poseidon talking to Grover, Annabeth, and Thalia.
Percy watched her go like an abandoned puppy, but Elia just rolled her eyes, exasperated but so fond.
Nearly all of her siblings were in the room, curled up on the couch or one of the armchairs or leaning against the bed Michael was sleeping in.
Michael looked a lot better, not nearly as pale or still, breathing evenly with the sun streaming through the open window and falling over his skin. A faint glow fell off his flesh, like maybe their father was watching, somewhere.
Heads snapped up when Elia entered, and the next moment, Will burst into tears.
Elia's little brother stood from his chair at Michael's bedside like the very movement weighed down his bones, and walked straight into her chest.
His sobs were silent, shaking and breathless against her already-damp tank top, but Elia just let out a soft breath, something cracking in her chest as she curled her arms around him, dropping to her knees and tucking her brother into her arms.
She registered, faintly, that he was getting too tall for her to hold him quite so comfortably. She hated that thought.
Will was sobbing something incoherent, Michael's name and her own slipping out between shaking breaths, equal parts relief and exhaustion.
He was so young, faced with a missing sister and a dying brother and things he was expected to fix. He was so young.
Elia ran gentle fingers through his messy blonde hair, swallowing the lump growing in her throat. "You did so well," she cooed, rocking back and forth. "We're okay. You did so well."
Across the room, Jack took the chair at Michael's bedside, staring at his big brother's sleeping face. He'd grown closer with Michael in the past months, no longer as overwhelmed by his inherent loudness. As separate as Jack felt from the rest of their siblings, Elia could always count on him to glue himself to her and Michael at any point in the day.
Carefully, Elia scooped Will— whose sobs had died into shaky breaths— into her arms, moving to sit on the edge of Michael's bed, studying her sleeping brother's face. He was okay. They were all okay.
Lucia approached, brushing a loose strand of blonde hair from Elia's face with a soft look that said I'm glad you're safe. Elia returned something close to a smile, blue eyes warm and bright.
Finally, Will pried his face from his sister's chest, tired eyes flickering over her. "You're hurt," he frowned, almost petulant in his worry.
She gently grabbed his wrists before he could try and reach for her to help. "I'm okay, bub," she promised, reaching to run her hand through his hair again. "Gonna eat some ambrosia and take a nap, I promise. Just wanted to see you all."
