Chapter Text
A simple tune, one from a lyre specifically, was what made Hermes return back to reality. He had laid in bed, his back against the wall, and he looked towards his left to feel a gentle warmth radiating off someone.
Clearly, it was Apollo. And Hermes moved slightly over, putting a hand on Apollo's hand which plucked the lyre strings. His fingers ran across that pale and perfect skin of his, unlike the front of his hand that now had a scar, personally made by the lighting that Zeus called upon, like a gift given to him, only with the bittersweet aftertaste.
Apollo looked over, a smile on his face. “ You're awake. “
Hermes blinked, confusion etched onto his face, as Apollo put down his hand gently and ran his hand through the brown curls of his. “ I fell asleep? “ Hermes asked, but it was more like a whisper in the quiet room. That snake of his was gone too, perhaps a coincidence with the fact that his thoughts of what happened earlier also disappeared. And Apollo merely nodded. “ Yeah. You did. “ As if accepting the fact, Hermes merely nodded; he couldn't accept the fact that it, the incident in Olympus happened.
“ I see, “ was what Hermes uttered. And Apollo gently put his lyre, their lyre, the one that Hermes had given to him as a child those years ago on his bedside table, and gently took Hermes’ hand, inspecting the scar on it now; a constant reminder of what had happened. Apollo looked up after that, as if asking a question. His eyes, those golden eyes, looked over Hermes’ eyes too. It was golden too, one that shone and sparkled brightly with joy, but now, just now, it looked like it dimmed, and it really did, even if Hermes tried to reignite that sparkle with a joke or two, it would stay like that: a dimmed light, a disheartened god.
“ What are you doing? “ Hermes asked, and to avoid Apollo’s gaze, he tilted his head up to look at the sky, now orange-yellow.
“ Checking your wound, “ Apollo promptly said. His thumb hovered over the scar, one that had the edge of dried ichor on it, and it was as if he didn't want to touch it, afraid that it would make the both of them tap into the memory and replay it all over again.
He was, indeed, afraid of doing that. An assortment of fear and awkwardness lingered in the room, and Apollo sighed, before asking: “ Does it hurt? “
“ The scar? “ Hermes looked down. He let out a small humourless chuckle, putting on a smile, an unnatural one; it was forced. “ No, not really. The memory does, though. “
And that was enough to break Apollo’s heart. His own half-brother, perpetually stuck with this scar that might take ages to heal, even if he put his hand over the scar and healed it himself, and yet there was one thing that couldn't be healed at all: the memory. It would fade, of course, but that distinct feeling of it would never, ever fade. Apollo took a sharp and deep breath in response.
Apollo didn't say anything. Then he tilted his head. “ Will you allow me to heal your wound? “ And Hermes looked up, chuckling; it was close to a laugh. The sun god blinked in confusion.
“ You’re so formal, “ Hermes said. “ But yes. I allow you to heal my wound. “
Ever since the incident, Apollo's eyes dimmed too, as if it horrified him (it did—how could Hermes get him and Iris in danger?) and left him forever traumatized. But healing, oh healing, it was sort of one of Apollo's interests. It obviously was his domain; but if he ever got the chance to heal his own siblings, he would, for the sake of altruism.
So the sun god nodded and got to his work, putting the messenger's hand in one of his hands and the other hand hovered over Hermes’ hand. “ Tell me if it hurts, “ Apollo muttered and Hermes hummed in response.
For a while, nothing happened.
Then it came.
A warm sensation washed over the scar, all the way to the wings on Hermes’ head which fluttered rapidly at the feeling; Hermes breathed in sharply, and Apollo noticed that despite most of his focus being on the healing process; the scar glowed slightly, although Hermes couldn't tell if it was from the ichor or from Apollo’s healing ability.
Then the glow slowly dissipated, and Apollo looked up, reaching out to pet Hermes’ wings, cooing him.
“ Hey, “ he muttered. “ It’s okay. I healed it. “
And Hermes tilted his head to look at him, nodding. “ Thank you, “ he mumbled. Apollo put his hands away, and Hermes looked up at the scar on his hand. It was less obvious, and there was a faint yellow glow on it to close the wound. He sighed.
“ What d’you wanna do next? “ Apollo asked, petting Hermes’ wings again. “ I can play a tune if you want. “
Surprisingly, Hermes shook his head. And Apollo tilted his head in confusion. “ No thanks. “ He slowly turned to his side, getting off it and he looked at Apollo.
“ I need to find Iris. “
Apollo nodded, looking away slightly now. Maybe don’t interfere in your half-brother’s business. Then he looked up. “ I healed her before I came to you. She should be resting now. “
Hermes nodded.
“ If not, tell her to do so. Queen Hera is probably watching, so be careful. I guess. “
Hermes’ wings puffed up, as if he hadn't flown in decades. He gave a quick salute to Apollo. “ I’ll see you later. “
And in the blink of an eye he flew off to Iris’ room, leaving only a feather on the floor of his room.