Chapter Text
"Apollo?" Silver would speak on the other end of the young Ixian's ear piece. "Apollo, did you find Graves?"
"...Y-Yes." Apollo answered, his voice stuttering while he choked on a sob.
"Is...Is she okay?" The werewolf lady questioned him further. On the other end, she heard him clear his throat and take a while to breathe. She merely closed her eyes and shook her end. "Apollo...Where's Darcy?"
"She's...she's dead." Apollo answered back. His eyes never left her, they couldn't. She laid still, her hair stained with crimson as well as his own clothes and hands. "Darcy and I were running. Then a shot rang out...she pushed me out of the way."
"God..DAMN IT!" Was all Silver said before tearing off her ear piece.
Apollo just sat there with Graves' lifeless body, still holding it gently while waves and waves of his own minions strolled past to the enemy's base.
'Why did she do that...?' Apollo's mind raced towards every suggestion to what just happened, why the person he's cradling in his arms did what they had done, and how it lead up to this moment. They successfully took down a walker, and a enemy together. He saw her smile as he felt his own growing because of her. Not the snarky kind or a malicious smirk they gave one another on a day-to-day basis. The kind that someone would...it doesn't matter.
What mattered was what happened after. They killed a enemy, bringing the foe count to 5 against 6. They were trying to run back to their ziplines and regain strength at base. But they Graves turned her head behind them, Apollo did the same and saw someone standing there. They seemed to have been looking down at the body of the person they just killed, but Apollo paid no mind to. He recounted her words effortlessly.
"They're probably rethinking joining this, sucks to be them now." Apollo remembered it vividly. His prideful banter, it almost never leaves his speech. Always remain confident and full of pride. But that's exactly what almost got him killed, thinking that it was safe. Thinking that person staring at the body wasn't seething with rage. Thinking to himself, 'They'll do themselves a favor if they ran and cowered in fear. They won't shoot at us-'
"GET DOWN IDIOT!"
Now he was on the ground. Landing on one of his sides as he felt Graves forceful shove. Apollo regained function to scramble to his feet sit up, wanting an explanation from Graves but they a shot rang out, and saw Graves fell. Her face. Her face said it all. She didn't yell, she didn't grimace. Nor was there a tear of sadness that fell from those diminishing green eyes of hers. How could he tell she wasn't sad?
She smiled at him. She smiled and raised a hand towards him as he crawled over towards her body, in a feeble attempt to heal her. He gripped her bloody hand, while her palm caressed his cheek softly. His tears fell upon her like gentle rain, while he kept on assuring her that she'd make it, he wouldn't let death take his own servant today. He did all that he could, dragging her over inside a building and trying to soothe the pain, patch up the blood, something. But while he did so, he failed to realize how during it all, she didn't raise a hand over to him again. She didn't lift her head to show that weakening smile of hers.
Nor did she mutter a single word. Not a single one, not even a sarcastic line of him owing her for saving his life. He'd much rather prefer to hear her voice right now, in any degree. He never knew how much never hearing it again would sting him, but that's what happens when you take something for granted it seems. As Apollo just stared back at her lifeless body now, his hand softly caressing her cheeks and the room they were in being filled by his soft whimpers and sobs, Apollo began to heave.
Anger was beginning to set forth inside him, anger for one person in particular. He couldn't pay back the same price Graves did for him, but he could sure as hell make sure whoever killed her met a gruesome end. He ran out, his saber in hand, hoping Graves' killer would still be there. But of course, the coward ran as soon as they saw one of them drop. No matter. Apollo would slaughter them all if he had to, it's only fitting.
He then turned back towards Graves, her body still not moving as Apollo walked over towards it, taking a seat and laying her head to rest on his lap as his arms wrapped around her body. By that moment, he still couldn't understand it.
Why save him?
What did he do?
Why did she sacrifice herself for him?
Apollo was smart, a genius he'd like to add. But this question puzzled him so. Of course they never hated each other fully, that's a given. Maybe he saw them as friends, for how close they were compared to everyone else at Blackmore. But the smile Graves gave him, the smile Apollo saw. Both times today...one of pure happiness and the other of, acceptance. Both directed at him. It was a smile that you'd give someone if you...Apollo couldn't even finish his thought as the tears and his throat began to itch, struggling to hold down another sob.
It would seem there was more to Graves he never got to see, and now hugging her body and cradling it, there goes something he'll never get to witness without her by his side. Apollo of course knew he couldn't just stay there by her body forever, and hoped their patron will let him bury it once his team and him were done with this damn ritual.
Apollo lowered his down to plant his lips on Graves' forehead. A wordless goodbye in a way he thought she'd be annoyed by, but also maybe help her own soul pass on if it needed to. And now picking back up his sword, fueled by anger in his steps, and his team rushing in to the battle for their lives, Apollo was prepared to deliver payback for the person he had lost.
Even if death's handmaiden wishes to see him again. For he would deliver his soul to her.