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Chapter Text

Young and fresh to the world as he was, Ares could see the unfairness that clouded each corner of it.

It was his domain, the strife and violence present in everything.
The fates had decided it long ago, and even if it was what he was born to do, he still tried to see the good in those he loved.
Even if those he called precious to him saw him as nothing but the same monster he tried to keep them from.
The same monsters calling from the bottom of Olympus, demanding the attentions and affections of his mother and sister.
Ares could hear them no matter where he went, doing his best to ignore them as the others were, he could not imagine how awful it must have been for the two women being called out.

He could see the tenseness in his mothers shoulders, the way her hands would grip tightly to whatever she was holding as the Giants called out, as if they could reach up and snatch her off the mountain; and that the pole or bench could save her from being wisked away.
Ares saw the way Hera's eyes darkened each time the mountain shook with the attempts the Giants made to scale Olympus.
He could see the way his sister hid, the way Artemis squirreled away with her twin, the sun blocking the moon from view, away from the eyes of the lecherous giants.
The way rage trembled in her shoulders as the ground did, each stomp of the giants feet rocking their home and threatening to destroy it.

Ares could understand the hesitance to deal with the problem, he had caught a glimpse of the giants himself one day and understood that they were stronger than anything he'd dealt with before in his short life, but the complacency with everything that was happening was what made him angry.
No one was doing anything to stop the giants from continuing to pester and harrass Hera and Artemis.
While he knew they were both safe on Olympus, the giants were becoming bolder, attempting to climb and find their way inside.
Ares had asked Athena once, if their father was consulting her on a plan, after all Athena was grown and had a few hundred years on Ares in their shared domain; but she simply gave her younger brother a withering look and some quip about him probably finding the strategies too complex to comprehend.

Decidedly, Ares took that as they hadn't any plans to deal with the giants, and Zeus would seem to contently allow them to continue what they were doing.
It was infuriating, Ares had never felt so powerless in his short life, watching things unfold he could do nothing about.

Until an idea came to him one day.

He was a god of war after all, the one who would raise the battle field and soak the ground in the blood of enemies.
The one who would witness more death comparative to Hades himself.
Ares was a warrior, and he intended to put that to good use.

If no one else would take a stand against the giants, then Ares would start the charge.
Perhaps seeing his brave assault, the others would join to put a stop to the giants and end this entire debacle.

Ares stood in his room, finalizing the gear he had to bring with him.
It wasnt much, he was still a child, and his size matched those of the mortal children he saw running around on the occasion he left Olympus with his mother.
He knew he would grow, his mind was already leagues smarter than the children his body mirrored, but gods born naturally aged slowly.
He would start to grow more quickly once he was able to make a name for himself and cement his domain properly, to get mortals prayers to fuel his powers.
But for now, he still had the softness of youth, even as he tried to cover it and look like a proper warrior.

His deep red chiton was covered by a small brestplate, one he'd scavenged when visiting a war site with Athena once, it was tiny but still perfect.
Ares wasnt sure if that was a good sign or not, but he had not seen any other children around so perhaps its previous owner had simply left it.
Intricate patterns wove along the front of it, patterns Ares didnt know what to make of.
He didnt have a proper set of armor for himself yet, but his mother had promised him once he was grown and able, the forge god himself would construct Ares an armor that would protect him in all battles.

His sword was settled at his hip, also smaller than most but one that fit him quite well.
It was sharp, and strong, Ares was careful not to break the blade, but trained with it every moment that he could.
He prided himself on his strength and speed, only outmatched in speed by Hermes himself, though often Ares found himself challenging the messenger to races to see who was faster.
Ares was yet to win, but he felt he was getting faster each time.

He tied his hair up, long slightly curled white locks into a bun at the top of his head.
Hera had always lamented that hed gotten his fathers hair, albeit not as cloud like as the god king himself, but in hue.
Ares had to admit, despite the array of colours his siblings hair sported, he had always wondered why his matched one parent so closely.
Tying the bun off with a long red ribbon that trailed down nearly to his feet, Ares felt prepared.
Surely, if he could stand up to the giants, the others would follow.

Athena would come up with some other strategy, perhaps Artemis and Apollo could let loose their arrows, or other trickery to help.
Surely, surely they could put an end to these monsters.
They wouldn't be complacent with the way they were acting any more.

Leaving his home, Ares made his way towards the edge of Olympus, ready to make his way down to confront the Giants.
He could hear them even clearer, bow closer than he ever had been before.
He gripped the hilt of his sword, looking down the path he would he charging to get closer to the giants, seeing them at the bottom.
It was hard not too, they were nine fathoms tall after all, large Giants that awaited their opportunity to strike.
But Ares would strike first, and strike hard.

"Hey lil boss, what'cha up too?"

Ares nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden voice that pipped up from behind him, the laughter that followed did not sooth his fiery embarrassment.
He turned, glaring up at Hermes, who was floating slightly above him.
Not that the younger needed too, Hermes was already quite a bit taller than Ares, which infuriated the war god to no end.
Hermes was his little brother, and yet was already taller than him!
It was just not fair.

"Im going to stop those giants. One way or another..."

Ares declared, setting his hands on his hip as Hermes whistled at the idea, turning in the air to angle himself closer to Ares.

"Woah! Really? I mean, kinda a big task there Ares... Sure you can take those guys?"

Ares simply scoffed at Hermes' worry, shaking his head.

"Of course I can. Theyre big sure, but their attacks will be too slow to hit me. Besides, Ill be able to see it coming long before they could hit me... Ill wear them down, make them regret bothering us."

Hermes seemed to contemplate the idea, humming as he shrugged at Ares' determined words.

"Alright. Well, good luck I guess... Ill tell Apollo to get the infirmary ready, ok?"

Hermes laughed as he flew away, Ares just rolling his eyes at his little brothers antics.
He knew his plan would work, it had to work.

Taking another deep breath, Ares drew his sword.
Starting down the mountain, he kept his expression as brave as he could, he would face his enemies head on, he could see them coming and they would see him coming.
Standing a bit aways from them still, Area raised his sword and pointed it to the giants.

"Otus! Ephialtes! I am Ares, god of war, strife and bloodshed! Olympus has endured your harrassment for long enough! I am here to put an end to the two of you, and free my family from your torment!"

There was a pause, the two giants looking to the tiny god that stood in defiance before them.
It was almost admirable.

Almost.

The two giants began to laugh, nearly toppling over from the sheer force of their merriment.
Ares felt rage bubbling inside of him, ichor rushing past his ears as he listened to the obnoxious laughter.

"Brother! Brother! A little nymph has come to tell us to go home! How adorable!! Look at how little he is!!"

"This tiny creature? A god of war? How ridiculous! How adorable to think it a threat!"

Ares gripped his sword, and with a mighty battle cry charged forwards to the giants, slashing and stabbing at their ankles and legs.
The laughter continued, but seemed to slightly pause as Ares continued to hack away at them.
It was doing nothing, not a scratch truly appeared, but to the giants it was beginning to grow annoying.
Otus looked to his brother, who had a similar look on his face.
They both knew who Ares was, and what sort of leverage they could use with this little god.

As such, Ephialtes took a jar from the belt on his waist, and emptied it quickly.
The bronze jar had carried water for them, but this opportunity would lead to more fruitful endeavours, and water was easily obtained.

Otus leaned down, watching Ares dance between their legs waiting for just a moment, before snatching the war god up in his hand.
It was faster than Ares anticipated, crying out as he was grabbed and swinging wildly with his sword in an attempt to get the giant to let go.
Otus did let go, but it was only a second of celebration for Ares before he was free falling from the giants palm.

He flailed out with his hands, losing grip on his sword, trying to stop his fall to no avail.
It felt as if he was falling forever, but truly it was only a few seconds before the world around him disappeared, and was replaced with the insides of a bronze jar.
He landed quite heavily on his back, knocking the air from his lungs.
He coughed and wheezed to get it back, turning to his side as Otus and Ephialtes laughed above him.

The last sight he saw was their hideous faces, as the lid of the jar closed off Ares from the rest of the world, plunging him into darkness.
He could still hear them, laughing about capturing him, stumbling to his feet only to be tossed about as the jar moved quite violently.

Ares cried out as he hit against the sides of the jar, unable to keep himself steady.
He cursed and screamed and threatened, only to be met with more laughter and beckoning calls for his mother and sister.

In the moments where Ares was able to get his feet under him, he pounded furiously against the walls of the jar, screaming himself horse to be let free.

He didnt know how long he was in there for, a few days at the very least, likely longer, listening to the giants talk to eachother, or call out loudly for those on Olympus.
He overheard their plans to storm the mountain, to take what they believed to be theirs.
Ares felt so foolish, hearing their plans but being unable to do nothing but smash his fists against the walls of the jar.

During the times that the giants rested, Ares didnt know if it really was night or not, he attempted to use whatever he could to scale the walls of the jar and attempt to escape.
It was hard, he couldn't see anything in the darkness, but feeling the smooth walls of the jar was enough foe him to try.

But try as he might, getting to the lid was nigh impossible, and even more so would be actually opening it.
Ares was loathe to admit it, but he knew he was stuck.
These giants weren't going to let him free, and he couldn't exactly free himself, so he just needed to wait.
Eventually, someone would notice he was missing, and surely they would realize the giants had him.
After all, Hermes would likely brag about how foolish he was to charge the giants by himself, and then he would be rescued.

Its what Ares kept telling himself, it was only a matter of time, he could wait.
He would still pound on the walls of the jar, just to make sure the giants knew he was still there.
He was still there.

Time passed by quickly, or slowly, he wasnt sure anymore.
It all felt like a blur when all he could do was scream, smash the walls, and listen to the giants.
But all at once, suddenly, there was more noise than just the giants.
He could hear the shouts of the two giants, like usual, but another voice he could hear broke through them both.
Surging to his feet, Ares hit the side of the jar madly with his fists, screaming louder than he had the times before.
He could hear Artemis, what she was saying Ares had no clue, but if she was close enough that he could hear her, then she must be close enough to hear him.

Ares continued to scream and throw himself against the walls of the jar, calling for his sister's aid, desperate for her to hear him.
Then again, all at once, everything shifted.

Ares was swept off his feet as the jar moved violently, falling to the floor, rolling and stumbling as he was rocked around inside like a ragdoll.
He could hear the giants shouting angrily, screaming for Artemis to stay still.
Ares was equal parts elated and scared, was Artemis fighting the giants?

He tried to get his feet under him, tried to stay stable enough to, well, do anything.
It felt like he was on ice, unable to stop himself from falling.
He heard the giants suddenly scream, a painful gutting sound Ares recognized clear as day.
It was the sound of death, a dying wail before the end.
One he'd heard a fair number of times already, and one he would never forget.

Ares himself shouted as suddenly he pitched to the side, feeling his stomach drop as he tumbled backwards but felt himself falling... Upwards?

The noise of two giant bodies colliding with the earth registered in Ares' ears, and the realization of what was about to happen only had a second to appear in his mind before he felt his body crash into the top of the jar, and the pain that seared his whole body as if he were on fire had him cry out, and then there was nothing.

Ares found himself in a heap, his whole body screeching with pain, his head pounding and making him feel so dizzy.
Weakly managing to get his hands under him, Ares struggled to sit upright, and struggled even harder to take a breath as he began to weep.
He was in so much pain, and it was so dark he couldn't even see what was hurt to try and fix it.
He could feel the ichor running down his face alongside his tears, his cries echoing back at him as he tried in vain to calm himself.

Eventually his tears subsided, though his pain did not, and he strained to hear where Artemis had gone.
Surely she was looking for him right this moment, and soon he would draw her attention for his rescue.
Gathering all the strength he had left, Ares beat against the wall of the jar, calling for his sister, for anyone that could hear him.
His voice failed him soon enough, and Ares slumped back to the ground, trying to listen for anyone he could hear around him.

The giants were silent, no longer did they shout for Hera or Artemis.
But as well, the sound of whatever battle took place was also now silent.
Ares could hear nothing but the soft sounds of his labored breath.

But that was impossible, Ares thought, Artemis had come down to the giants, did she not defeat them?
Surely she had too, Ares could no longer hear their jeering.
He could no longer hear their snores.
He could no longer hear their plans to raid Olympus.

He could no longer hear anything.

Silence was somehow worse than the giants obnoxious words.
At least then Ares had some vague idea of time passing.
But now?
He only could tell time was continuing on because his wounds started to hurt less and less.
As his physical wounds healed, he could feel his mind starting to crack.
He still called out for his family, still threw himself against the jar to call attention.

He had long since realized he was stuck, the lid of the jar below his feet, and no matter how hard he tried to pry it away from the jar, it remained stuck.
He often simply sat in silence for what felt like years at a time, wondering if he would ever escape, if there was anything left to escape too, why no one had noticed he was missing, did they even care that he was missing?

He knew they didnt think highly of him, the way the fates had described his domain had left most of them wary about who he would become.
He didnt understand it, why they seemed so off put, he did his best to quell those types of worries.
He wasnt interested in bloodshed for the sake of outright killing.
There was no honor in the slaughter of innocents, or those who could not fight back.

Ares was destined to be the rage on the battlefield, the adrenaline and bloodlust of a warrior.
Not the senseless slaughter of anyone who dared breathe.

But it seemed to him that that is what most believed him to be, as he had more time to think; alone with his thoughts as he was.
He promised himself, slipping off into another cold dreamless sleep, that he would do his best to change their minds on that.

Another way he knew time was moving, was how weak he felt he was growing.
There was a point he felt he could barely lift himself from the sprawled way his body had slumped during his sleep.
All of his limbs felt so heavy, yet so weak at the same time.
His arms trembled under his own weight, even if he seemed to weigh nothing at all.
He could feel the air getting heavier, as if it was harder to pull in and out of his lungs.
It even felt as if his heart was slowing down, the only things he could now reasonably hear was the rasping of his own breath, and the slow beating of his heart.

At times, he didnt know if his eyes were opened, or closed, it was dark all the same; but it even seemed blinking was a chore.
As he tried to gather enough strength to knock against the side of the jar again, his mind flashed to another time he'd gone to a battle alongside Athena.
This time, it was to watch over what he would soon be in charge of.
The last dying breaths of a warrior who'd fought valiantly.
Ares remembered watching the mortal with curiosity, the way his chest labored in its breaths, how he still struggled to reach his weapon, to stand, to fight.
Ares had admired the man, admired his drive, his ambitions.

But laying there, feeling as if he were now that same man, knowing the end was creeping just around the corner; he was scared.
He felt nothing like the warrior he tried so hard to be.
Ares understood, in the moments he shared with that dying mortal, why the warrior struggled so hard to get back on his feet and continue the fight.
But here, locked away in this jar, he had no fight to continue.
He'd long since accepted the fact that either the giants were dead or had discarded his jar someplace forgotten.
There was no battle to be fought here, not anymore.

He was trapped and entirely helpless.
He didnt feel like the warriors he would one day inspire and lead, he felt weak, hopeless, and utterly terrified.
Why hadn't anyone come to find him?

Like his rasping breaths, the ugly thoughts came in and out, playing tricks on him.
He dreamt that they came to save him, he dreamt of Athena's teasing for getting caught so easily, he dreamt of the disappointment in the gazes of his mother and father, he dreamt that they all were waiting just outside for him to admit his defeat and foolishness, each time he awoke in the darkness he wished it were true.

Even if each outcome was terrible, he still just wanted them to be true so he could go home.
He would endure the withering looks and the lectures about his recklessness if only to just be home, he wasnt sure what to do but hope, he knew in times like these mortals would pray to gods for help, but Ares knew that wouldnt work for him.

He wondered, briefly, if there was something after this.
If one time he may wake up in his uncles domain.
If Hades would recognize him, or if he would be lumped in with the other souls.
He wondered if he could cross the Styx, if she would allow him passage without the proper compensation.
If his status as a god would persist enough that she would allow him Elysium.

He decided, after the lump in his throat grew too large to choke down, that he would not think about that any longer.
His thoughts persisted with his family, of what he wished to do when he got home.

But slowly, even those thoughts left his mind, and the heaviness bore down on him and took everything.

Then all at once, the world around him shifted, and the darkness rushed away.
Ares could feel that it hurt his eyes, but had no energy left to turn away.
The light was blocked again as a figure drew close, he could make out something , but the noise felt so garbled and sharp he didnt know what it was.
Finally, he was able to identify the figure crouched infront of him.

Hermes, his mind supplied, that was different than the usual dreams he had.
He thought it was nice though, how clear Hermes' face was.
Everyone else's had become so muddled, features blending together, he could hardly tell who he dreamt of saving him these days.

He still couldn't make out what his little brother was saying, but there was a crushing sadness to his features Ares wished he could comfort.
Even if it was just a dream, he still cared for his brother, and didnt think sadness suited Hermes features at all.

Ares hoped Hermes' face wouldn't become muddled anytime soon, and as the darkness crept back in he tried to focus on his brothers face, his own sadness and fear welling in his chest.
He wondered if Hermes was doing alright, if maybe the messenger somehow missed Ares.
Ares believed they had fun together, even if Ares could get a little hotheaded at Hermes antics.
He thought perhaps he would make an effort to show Hermes he did enjoy the time they spent together more, if he got home.

He sensed a sudden franticness to dream Hermes, and he felt bad for thinking so negatively.
The light was slipping away from him, he could see it just past dream Hermes' arm.
There was sand outside the jar, and in the distance the ocean.
It was pretty, a prettier view than Ares thought his mind could come up with.
He wondered which beach it was, which view his mind had come up with to taunt him with.

This was usually where his dreams ended, he could see the outside but never touch.
As the darkness crept into his vision, he was once again slightly crushed at the notion of once again waking up in the dark.

His eyes felt so heavy, heavier than anything he'd ever had to lift before.
So he let them slip closed, the familiar darkness embracing him with cold cruel arms.
He thought he heard Hermes calling his name, voice choked with terror and tears, but he felt unable to move at all let alone open his eyes once more to look.

Not that it mattered anyways, he knew he would awaken alone once more, and he would rather stop falling for the tricks his dreams would play.

He fell further into the darkness, echoes of his name following him down.

Chapter Text

Darkness once again greeted Ares as he managed to drag open his eyes.
He tried to stave it off, but the crushing sadness of waking once again inside the jar as his mind played tricks on him brought agony to his heart.
He knew it had been too good to be true, no one was coming for him, let alone Hermes.

He dragged a breath into his lungs, startled at how easily the air came to him.
He'd gotten used to having to take shallow breaths, but suddenly the air seemed so much more abundant?
Slowly his brain seemed to catch up with him, and he began to realize there was more than just the air that was different.

His fingers twitched, feeling soft plush fabric beneath them instead of icy cold bronze, and his eyes noticed how the top of the jar seemed to look more like the shifting cloud ceilings on Olympus.

How strange, he thought, that he would imagine only the ceiling of home.
He couldn't say he stared up at the ceilings often, only when Zeus had made mention of some new mural or pillar.
Otherwise, Ares had always assumed they were just clouds.

However, the plush warmth was another matter entirely.
Perhaps another trick his mind was playing on him, or something cruel Hypnos had come up with.
Though Ares couldn't see why the sleep god would bother tormenting him, Ares had only met him twice and on both occasions Hypnos had been asleep , so there was little doubt to Ares that Hypnos was trying to torture him.

So, the conclusion was that his mind was doing it, trying to remember the sensations of a bed beneath him.
He wondered how long it had been since he last lay in a bed, compared to the jar, any sort of mat would likely feel like bliss.

Ares blinked slowly, and suddenly his view was blocked again by Hermes.
Ares watched Hermes watching him, dismay filling his heart as he realized Hermes looked different.
He wished he could have held on tighter to what Hermes looked like, but that too seemed to be slipping away as quickly as the others.
Though he wondered who's features he was mistaking on Hermes.
Surely Apollo, and even possibly Athena, but there was no mistaking the way Hermes looked older than he had the last time Ares remembered seeing him face to face.

Even if he couldn't recall exactly how he looked, Ares knew there was a difference.

Ares let the darkness take him again, but the next time he saw the ‘not-Hermes’ he was being shifted around.
He could feel the hands holding him carefully, helping him sit up.
It felt like a mix of pain and relief, Ares wondered when the last time he sat up was, though he was convinced the jar was simply shifting about.

Not-Hermes presented him with some sort of something in a bowl, talking to him in a low, gentle voice.
If he focused enough, Ares could sometimes put together what his dream brother would be saying, but most of it was tuned out.
Ares couldn't remember what their voices sounded like anyways, so it didn't matter what they said.

The food was new though, Ares did miss food.
He'd been presented with food occasionally in past dreams, but it only made the hunger in his guts twist further and further.

He stared at the bowl and the spoon Not-Hermes was presenting him with.
He felt as though he could smell the food, he wondered if he could taste in his dreams, or if that would even be too cruel for himself.
He was hungry, but dream food would not fill his belly, not even if dream Hermes looked so very sad each time he just stared at the bowl until it felt cold in his hands.

All of his dreams recently had been taking place in Apollo's infirmary.
He was sat on the bed, soft pillow behind him, warm blankets cuddled close, and more often than not; Not-Hermes was there.
Sometimes Ares dreamt he was alone, and other times Apollo was there too.

It made sense, this was where the sun god spent most of his time when not out and about.
Ares often dreamt him writing things down, or sometimes they just sat quietly together.
Not-Hermes was the only one who tried to talk to him, or well, talked at him.
Not that Ares minded, often he just told Ares more stories, or funny jokes.
He wanted to remember them to tell to Hermes, but he had no true way of recording them.
Ares just hoped his dream jokes would come back to him when he awoke.

He'd dreamt of Athena only once, she had been standing at the end of the bed he was laid in, staring at him with an expression Ares wasn't sure what to make of.

He stared back at her, but she left quickly.
He watched her leave, and he briefly wondered how she was fairing.
He wondered if there had been any fights or wars in his absence, and if she had won.

His dreams did not yield anyone else after the one time Athena showed up, only Not-Hermes and Apollo.
Sometimes they were together, whispering frantically at each other, Ares could never understand what they were saying, but it seemed important.

Dreaming he was alone again, Ares cautioned a full look around the infirmary.
It was somewhat like he remembered, he believed, though he could have sworn most of the time the curtains were open.
But here, they were drawn shut.

He wondered if it would be like those dreams of rescue, if he opened the curtain to let in the light.
A moment of pretend warmth, only to be thrust back into the cold loneliness.

There was a curtain beside his bed, he wanted to try it.
Perhaps he could open it and even for just a few seconds see home again.
He shifted, finding his limbs surprisingly heavy despite being in a dream.
Though he guessed that not moving for so long had made his arms and legs so used to it even in dreams he had a hard time moving.

But eventually he coordinated enough to sit at the side of his bed, and reached for the curtain, expecting it to vanish at his grasp and plunge himself back into the dark.
He could always just dream again.

Though to his surprise, as his fingers brushed the fabric, it felt solid.
He shifted, trying to stand to drag it open, when his feet gave out from under him.
A cry fell from his lips as he collapsed to the ground, yanking the curtain down completely.
The metal bar clattered harshly against the wooden floor, reverberating an awful sound as Ares grimaced at the pain that exploded at his side.

His eyes stayed squeezed shut for a moment to subside it all, before slowly opening.

He registered the warmth first, enveloping him much like the blankets, but this was more comforting than any blanket Ares ever knew.
Next was the harshness of the light to his eyes.
He hadn't realized just how used to the dark he had become, but it burned his eyes to look at the window.

He waited for a moment, waited for the darkness to return, to envelop him and wash away the memory of the warmth, and of the sun.
But as moments passed, and Ares stayed warm and squinting, the dawning realization was creeping over him like a thick fog.

Ares wasn't waking up, the darkness wasn't returning to take him under, nor was the warmth of the sun leeching away to the biting cold he'd grown so used to.
His eyes hurt, and it didn't go away as he kept staring up at the window, just barely seeing the tops of a few structures and the bright blue hue of the sky.

He sat, just staring as his eyes burned, unblinking at the sky and distantly heard a commotion to his right.
The curtain was strewn around him, the fancy decoration on the end of the pole holding it up had shattered across the floor.
He realized he didn't remember what those even looked like, but the detail in the broken pieces was too obvious to ignore.

His vision was taken up again by Hermes, hesitant as he seemed to search Ares over for wounds.
Ares blinked, listening to Hermes muttering to himself, looking beyond worried.
Ares lifted a trembling hand away from where he was still clutching the curtain, Hermes freezing as Ares placed his hand on his brother's cheek.

Ares could see the hesitance in Hermes eyes, searching for something Ares wasn't sure of.
Hermes felt warm, like the way the sun felt, and solid beneath his fingers like the curtain.

“... Are yo-u… Rea-al?”
Ares managed, wincing slightly at how awful his voice sounded.
Though he supposed the time he spent screaming himself mute was the culprit.

He watched Hermes’ eyes widen slightly, like some sort of realization was washing over him as well.

“... Yeah… Yeah lil boss, I'm real.”

Ares sat quietly for another moment, letting the words Hermes spoke settle around them.
He was waiting for any sort of sign that this was a trick, that he was actually still hallucinating or dreaming, but as the notion of this all being real settled over him, he felt a sudden bout of terror clawing up his spine.

He didn't know why, Hermes wasn't anyone to be frightened of, at least not Ares.
But he couldn't help it, the tremble of his entire body as suddenly everything was too much.

He distantly heard Hermes trying to soothe him, and he felt bad for flinching so hard away from the one who was trying to help, but it just felt like his entire world was collapsing back on him.

The sudden notion that he was free from the jar was not something he felt he could understand.
Especially when his thoughts were running through his head so quickly he could barely keep up, jumping from one moment to the next as he tried to piece together when exactly he'd been brought back home.

But was he truly home?
Or had he gone completely insane, finally cracked under it all.
Or maybe this was his Elysium in a sense, he'd heard tales of the plains becoming places that those who've earned the eternal paradise have always dreamed of.
He had dreamt of home a lot, so perhaps that's what this was?

Then again, the panic that was washing over him and gripping his very core didn't seem to match with what he'd heard about Elysium, and how it was supposed to work.

How did he get here?
If this was real and he was really home, why hadn't he seen anyone?
Where were they?
Had the giants really been defeated?
Was everyone safe?
How long was he gone?
Did they know he was missing?

So many questions flew around him at once, but he couldn't find the words to speak any.
He felt Hermes gather him up, and bring him back to the bed, hesitating as he continued to try and soothe Ares.
He noticed Apollo come into the room as well, trembling as he stared at the sun god who also seemed to be quite worried.

Ares grabbed hold of Apollo as the other came close enough, Hermes shifting to make sure Ares didn't launch himself off the bed again.
Apollo gently rested a hand over Ares’ waiting for the war god to calm down enough to speak the questions he clearly had.

Ares didn't think he had enough energy to ask everything he wanted too, but he needed to make certain this was no trick.
Ares knew Apollo would tell him the truth, and even if he tried to lie, Ares knew he was a terrible liar.

It took him a moment to gather his voice, though it still croaked and broke as he pushed through his words
“A-Are th-.... Th-ey sa-afe?”

“Is who safe, Ares?”

“M-om… A-Artem-...”

He broke off into a fit of coughs, taking the cool cup that was pressed into his hands and gulping down the liquid.
It soothed his throat, and tasted utterly divine.
He panted softly as he finished whatever it had been, taking a moment to just breathe.

Hermes and Apollo looked at one another, and Ares felt so worried that their news was bad, looking at the two of them with pleading eyes.
Hermes gently placed a hand on Ares’, and Ares could see how he was doing his best to keep a smile on his face.

“They're both doing fine, darling, but here, why don't you write your questions down, and we can answer, hm?”

Hermes handed over some parchment and a quill to Ares, which he took carefully.
His hands still felt shaky and weak, but there were so many questions rattling around in his head, he needed to understand.

Once he scribbled down everything he could think of, he handed it to Hermes, Apollo leaning down to read it as well.

Another emotion seemed to cross both of their faces, but they both shifted back to their calm looks after a few seconds.
Hermes cleared his throat, looking to Ares with a calm smile.

“That's a fair number of questions lil boss.”
He chuckled, gently tapping at the paper
“I'll answer as many as I can… Lets see here… hmm, yes, well…”
Ares watched Hermes scan the list, clearly searching for a point to start.
He went down the list, talking about all the mundane things Ares asked about, though it was clear he was avoiding the heavier questions Ares had written down.

Apollo was watching over his shoulder the entire time, before sighing and placing a hand on Hermes’ shoulder to stop their brother from rambling.
Apollo looked to Ares, expression full of regret as he spoke.

“... You've been gone for about thirteen months.”
Apollo spoke softly, eyes finding Ares’ letting the realization slowly settle over him.
Ares blinked, confusion settling over his mind as he tried to wrap his mind around the idea that he'd been gone so long.
Sure, it wasn't long compared to their own lives but…

Ares slowly took a soft breath, looking down at his hands.
He felt Hermes gently place a hand on his arm, and he turned to look at the other, noticing how Hermes no longer tried to hide the clear regret on his face.

Ares realized the underlying message of what their words meant.
He had been gone and none of them had realized it until then.
He wasn't sure what had felt worse, waking up in the dark after dreams of being saved, or knowing that none of those dreams were even rooted in any sort of reality.
That none of his family had been looking for him, let alone would have actually come to save him.

Perhaps except Hermes, but had he been searching the entire time?
It wasn't likely, Ares could see how he had aged, it was clear Hermes was doing his own duties and gathering worship from the mortals; and quickly at that.
Ares wasn't blind to see that Hermes seemed to only have found out recently that he was gone, a hollow sadness filling his chest at the notion that he had just been forgotten essentially.

This all just made him settle on new questions, but he also wasn't certain he wanted to know any of the answers.
Apollo stood, gently patting Ares on the shoulder
“I can see the conflict and confusion in your eyes… there will be time to answer your questions, but for now, it is better that you rest.”

Ares looked to Apollo, only nodding once before shifting to lay back down against the fluffy pillows.
He relaxed against them slightly, now knowing their comfort was real.
He blinked slowly, thoughts still swirling in his head, his gaze shifting to Hermes.

Apollo had moved away from them both, milling about the room, clearly trying to give them space without moving too far from Ares just in case.
Ares could recognize that flighty nervousness a mile away.
But Hermes had a look on his face that Ares did not recognize.
At least, not on Hermes.

Regret soured the usually excitably troublesome gods face, pinching his brow and making his eyes mist up.
Ares gave Hermes a look, a soft breath escaping his lips as he reached a hand out to comfort his little brother.
It was taken up immediately, and Hermes was very obviously holding back tears
“Im sorry,”
He started, Ares already hearing the crackling sadness in his tone
“I'm so sorry… I should have gone after you right away, I just thought… surely you had been pouting at home, of course you didn't want to see me… i didn't… I didn't think…”

Ares gently squeezed Hermes’ hand, shaking his head to try and quell the speedsters' worries.
He couldn't speak to sooth him, but he did his best to convey he wasn't angry at Hermes.

He wasn't angry at any of them.
After all, he knew it was quite the insane notion that any of them would have cared too much if he was missing for a period of time, gods did their own things; but perhaps a part of him deep down was more hurt than he wanted to explore or let on, knowing he was gone for a year and a month, and no one seemed to care.
Aside from Hermes, though it also seemed like he hadn't noticed for quite some time too.

It hurt, but Ares willed it aside, focusing on being home.
It was all he had wanted for the year he was locked away, he wasn't going to spoil it so soon.
He gently gathered Hermes’ attention once more, and simply pointed to the window with a bit more insistence.

It seemed his brother understood, wiping his tears and nodding
“Yeah, yeah… We can go outside as soon as sunshine over there gives the ok.”
He laughed weakly, motioning to Apollo who glared at them both.
Huffing, the eldest of the trio strode forwards with his hands at his hips
“You are a very fast healer Ares, but not that fast… I will leave the windows open, but you are to stay in bed for a bit longer.”

The finality of the glare made Ares nod his head, but unable to stop the slight smirk and snicker that joined in with Hermes at how serious their big brother looked.
Apollo softened at the sound, shaking his head with a soft smile on his face
“Alright, I will be around, Hermes I expect you to be Ares’ voice for the time being.”
He spoke as he turned to leave, writing more things down as he went, leaving the two younger gods to settle into a comfortable silence.

Ares listened to the sounds of ambiance, and the slight commotion as Hermes opened the window.
A breeze filtered in, Ares watched the curtains move, and felt it against his face.
Hermes startled as Ares began to quietly cry, shaking his head as Hermes went to close the window again.
The messenger god complied, sitting on Ares’ bed as he watched over his brother, taking in the soft breeze.

Even with the wind turning a fair bit chilly as the tears rolled down his face, Ares still felt warm, the gentle air welcoming him back to Olympus, back home.
He wanted to bask in it for a while, each new little sound coming through the window continuing to affirm he was free, his thoughts starting to slow and he grew tired.
Ares felt the prickling of terror rising in his belly as he felt almost scared to fall asleep.

He tried to let go of the notion, but found himself unable, reaching out to Hermes with slight urgency.
Without hesitation Hermes took his hand, giving him a soft reassuring smile, and lowered his voice to speak softly
“I'll be right here when you wake up, alright?”

Ares barely nodded before sleep took him, the knot of worry loosening slightly at Hermes' reassurance, trusting his brother entirely.
He would see Hermes again when he woke up, he was certain of it.

Chapter Text

"Alright. Well, good luck I guess... I'll tell Apollo to get the infirmary ready, ok?”
Hermes giggled to himself as he sped off, not bothering to listen to what Ares would likely grumble at him.
Hermes had a pretty decent idea about what would happen to his big brother, so he just needed to wait a bit while Ares got his butt handed to him, and bring him to Apollo to patch up any injuries he may attempt to hide.

Hermes did think it was funny, Ares had always been one to just charge ahead, not always thinking of the consequences of his actions; even if the others spelled it out for him sometimes.
Nevertheless, Hermes went to find their elder brother, and inform the sun god to prep the infirmary for ‘hurt feelings’.

But as the days dragged on, and Hermes saw hide nor hair of a pouting prince, he did start to slightly wonder how long Ares was going to sulk for.
Artemis had finally consulted Apollo and Athena on a plan to be rid of the giants, Hermes had overheard them squabbling about how long Artemis could out run the giants, and Hermes figured Ares was pouting that he wasn't included.
Not that what was being discussed was war, but Hermes knew how much Ares liked to listen to discussions on battles no matter what kind they were.

So, Hermes did the kind thing and wrote it all down.
He delivered it to Ares’ door, knocking and waiting for the war god to answer.
After a few minutes of nothing but silence, Hermes sighed and shook his head
“You can't sulk forever Ares!”
He called, before slipping the paper under the door and turning to leave.

Over the coming days, Hermes continued to take notes and deliver them to Ares’ home, slipping them under the door, and leaving after attempting to convince Ares to stop sulking.
Eventually, Hermes did grow tired of being ignored, and even felt a bit hurt by it.
Hermes had always believed he and Ares had a very decent relationship, they were brothers after all, and decently close in age to the point where they were fast friends and bonded over many things.
So to be so easily ignored was rather heartbreaking for Hermes.

“Artemis is going to take care of the giants today,”
Hermes called out, knocking on Ares’ door once again, still trying to coax his brother out
“I thought you were supposed to like fighting!! This is gonna be a big one! I heard that Artemis has lots of tricks!”
He paused, listening to the silence emanating from inside.
Frowning, he pulled away and crossed his arms
“Fine, be that way. But I'm not gonna write you any more notes or come talk to you if you just keep ignoring me!”

He waited another moment, before shaking his head and turning to leave
“... Alright. Bye Ares.”

To celebrate Artemis’ win, Zeus threw quite the large party in her honor.
Of course, Olympus was not itself without a party, though this one was special.
It was to honor Artemis for her brave charge against the giants, tricking them into striking each other down when no one else could manage such a feat.

Honestly, Hermes had been impressed by the display, Artemis had transformed herself into a deer to out manoeuvre the giants, and alongside Apollo distracting the two as they attempted to capture Artemis, it wasn't long before they made a mistake.
The giants were their own undoing, and Hermes couldn't entirely say he felt bad for them, despite hearing their mothers wails whenever he drew too close to the edge of Olympus.

Perhaps he felt worse for her than them, as the giants were far from pitiable.

The party was going to last for a very long time, and while Hermes did enjoy partaking in everything it offered, he did have duties to attend to.
Hermes knew he could pop back into the party whenever he so desired, and thus continued to deliver messages and mayhem everywhere he went.

Eagerly taking the prayers and praises of the mortals, and having quite a bit of fun with it all.
He grew quite a bit over the coming months, pleased that his godly powers and domain were settling in quite nicely.
Plus, he got to hear every bit of gossip he could ever want, both godly and mortal!

Which is why he was certainly more excited than most to head down to walk amongst the mortals, they were simply too much fun!
Though sometimes they could be quite serious, like at the current moment as he stifled a yawn listening to some king spluttering about as the missive from Zeus settled discarded on the floor.
Normally Hermes would simply take off after delivering his letters, but he was growing a small bit weary of the constant party taking place on Olympus.

So, escaping to the woes of mortals, he took a break.
Though between the mortals mutterings, Hermes heard something quite interesting
“If only…. Ares…. We need… the worship…. Why hasn't he…”

“What was that about Ares, darling?”

Hermes saw the king flinch heavily, as if having forgotten Hermes was lounging on his chairs.
He turned and bowed deeply, looking quite scared
“My deepest apologies my lord, it is only the missive calls for war… Our patron, Lord Ares, has not answered our prayers in quite some time… Our alters go unvisited, and our offerings ignored… I do not mean to offend, we are only worried.”

Hermes hummed, shrugging lightly at the kings obvious discomfort, but at the same time was a small bit concerned that Ares hadn't been doing his duties to those that seemed to quite like him, especially if they had devoted themselves to a rather new god, and continued to worship him after being ignored.

“Well, I'll pop by and give him a word, he is a very busy god you know.”
Hermes drawled, watching as the king lit up and scrambled to bow completely to the ground
“Thank you my lord! I know our prayers are in great hands with you-”

Hermes stood, stretching as he walked towards the window he'd originally entered through
“Yes yes, I know I am the best darling.”
He said, hurrying off back home.

Truthfully, Hermes figured Ares had just grown bored of the rather small kingdom that was likely going to be swallowed up in the war to come.
Though in Ares' case, much like Hermes’ own, they needed the worship and prayers of the mortals to grow into their domains properly.

Hermes stayed mostly away from the war aspect of it all, aside from delivering letters and things, so he wasn't entirely certain that there wasn't a war or some bloody battle Ares had been busy with.
Though perhaps, he thought, he should check up on his rather pouty brother to see why this particular king had pissed him off so much.

It was only fair, and in such a case Hermes wouldn't be lying to the poor sucker, and thus it was a win win!

Hermes knocked on Ares door a few days later, waiting patiently for a moment before calling out
“Ares! I know you're pouting in there, I can feel it from out here!”
He paused, listening for the other god
“... Come on now Ares! It's been nearly ten months, you have to stop pouting sometime!”
He paused again, huffing when it garnered no reaction
“Just because Artemis’ plan worked and yours didn't doesn't mean you get to sulk and ignore your duties!! I know you haven't been doing your rounds properly!”
Silence from inside the home, and Hermes was starting to grow extremely annoyed
“I'll tell Athena!”

When that didn't work, Hermes threw his hands up, and shook his head
“Fine! Ignore me all you want, but I am telling Athena you're ignoring perfectly good warring kingdoms, and you know she's just gonna take them for herself!”
Hermes smirked, setting his hands on his hips and waiting for the rage that would ensue.

Silence.

Hermes blinked, stepping back from the door.
That usually got Ares entirely too riled up, which was what Hermes wanted.
However, there was no reaction at all this time.
He took a breath, confusion clouding his mind.
He had seen Athena recently at the party, so he was doubtful there was a war going on that was occupying Ares, but that didn't explain where the war god was.

But then again, perhaps Athena did know where Ares was, perhaps there was a battle raging that Ares would be overseeing without Athena.

Hermes made up his mind, and headed off to find the strategist, intent to figure this out.
Tracking down Athena had taken a bit longer than Hermes wanted, but eventually he found her, fluttering into her space while it seemed Athena was all too eager to step away from the party Atmosphere.

“Ah! Athena! Dear sister, how have you been?”

“Hermes… I have been well, what is it you need? It isn't often you come for social visits.”
She spoke smoothly, cutting right to the chase.
Hermes did quite like that about her, not needing to posh praise or overtly commend her to have a simple conversation with answers.

“This is true! Perhaps I should visit you more often in that case… But I come with a question of decent importance.”

“Please, do not,”
She joked, though Hermes could have sworn she held an air of seriousness, but she moved on quickly
“So what, pray tell, is this ‘question of decent importance’?”

“Have you seen Ares about? I delivered a missive to a kingdom about an impending war Father wishes to wrap up quickly, and they made mention Ares has not been accepting their offerings, nor punishing them for any wrong doings.”
He explained, watching as Athena's expression shifted from interested, to a hint of confusion and sliver of worry.

She slowly shook her head, obviously thinking through when she last saw Ares
“... I have not. Has he not been preoccupied with the celebrations?”

“As far as I've seen, no… I thought perhaps he was sulking, he had the idea to charge the giants months before the plan you and Artemis came up with… I believed he was upset to not be included in that discussion but… Are you saying he did not attempt to attend at all?”
Hermes said, arms crossed over his chest, searching Athena's gaze for any hesitance in her certainty that she had not seen Ares.

But as the war goddess shook her head, now looking a tad more conflicted on the topic, Hermes felt his slight sense of worry grow
“... No, he did not.”
Athena confirmed, brow furrowed as she looked out towards the quiet cliff that Ares’ home sat upon.

She sighed, shaking her head
“But it is not uncommon for him to stalk off on his own. Especially considering his… plan failed, and Artemis’ succeeded. It's likely he's taking his anger out elsewhere. I wouldn't be too concerned, Hermes.”
Athena brushed off the slight worry that had built, and Hermes could see her accepting her own answer as a likely fact.
Hermes would agree, Ares had a habit of taking off, but something felt a bit strange.

Hermes thanked Athena, and left the party, heading out towards the cliff's edge once again.
He could hear the giant's mother weeping, her cries echoing through the quiet evening, as Hermes looked down towards where the Giants bodies lay.
They had become stone quite quickly after dying, boulders crumbling against the sandy shore.

He left soon after he arrived, not wanting to hear her screams for her long dead sons.

The next day Hermes returned, unsure himself as to why he felt the need to look down upon the boulders that once tormented them.
Until the glint of something in the sand caught his eye.
He made his way down the mountain, curious as to what was so shiny it nearly blinded him.

Drawing closer to the object, Hermes could see some of it sticking out of the sand, while the rest was buried.
He grabbed the exposed hilt, and pulled free a sword from the sand.
It looked as though it had seen better days, rust beginning to form along the blade.
Hermes’ brow furrowed, the sword seemed so familiar, and yet…

It took him a moment to search for where he had seen the sword before, but quickly a memory flashed into his mind.
This was Ares sword.
The one he carried that day he charged the giants.
Hermes was entirely too confused, a sense of dread creeping into his stomach.
Ares adored this blade, Hephaestus had made it for him, Hermes remembered Ares talking to him about its crafting for hours, there was no way Ares would have left it behind; let alone allowed it to fall into such disrepair.

Hermes rushed back to Olympus, holding the sword tightly as he scurried to Apollo's infirmary.
He knew his elder brother was there, nursing those who challenged Dionysus to one to many drinking contests.
Hermes caught Apollo before he could be shooed away, but it was clear Hermes’ face of dread stopped the sun god in his tracks anyways.

Leading Hermes to a quieter location, Apollo demanded to know what was going on.

“It's Ares. I… I think he's missing.”
Hermes finally stated, showing Apollo the blade
“Athena hasn't seen him, his worshipers haven't seen him, and he left his blade in the sand… He would not do that, I have asked everyone I can think of, and i am growing worried.”

Apollo gently nodded, taking Hermes’ fears seriously.
It was not often Hermes became so serious, let alone near frantic.
He tried to calm his little brother, placing a hand on Hermes’ shoulder
“I believe you, Hermes… Let me finish my duties here, and I will help you search. Have you checked inside his home yet?”

Hermes shook his head, chewing at his lip.
Apollo nodded, looking back out at the drunken gods
“Alright. Check there first, see if he left a note, anything at all… I will come as soon as I can.”

Hermes felt bad about basically breaking into Ares’ home, but it was for a good reason so he was certain the war god would forgive him.
The door swung open pitifully after Hermes kicked at it a few times, revealing a dark and quiet interior.
Hermes took a step inside, pausing as his foot crinkled against something on the ground.
He looked down, eyes widening as he realized he had stepped on the notes he'd left for Ares.

He knelt down, brushing the top ones aside, realizing that every single one he wrote was still there, laying in the entrance.
His hands shook as he straightened back up, and headed inside further.
The house was empty, quiet, and each surface that was normally full of some trinket or other was covered in a thin layer of dust.

The home seemed completely unlived in, so cold and so empty.
Hermes looked around, but he felt like he already knew Ares had not left a note, nor had he left any indication on where he had gone.
It didn't make much sense to Hermes, where would Ares have gone?

Hermes moved to Ares’ bedroom, looking out briefly to the courtyard to see if there was the chance to glimpse the young god to no avail.
Entering the room, Hermes found more of the same emptiness, no trace of Ares in sight.
His eyes scanned the room, his eyes catching on drawings it seemed that Ares made.
He wandered closer, looking at them all.
They weren't the most amazing by any means, but they were clearly all cherished.
Several depicted simple scenarios, Ares in battle with Athena, or himself and Ares during a foot race.

So many drawings of Ares with those he clearly loved, and yet he was nowhere to be found, and it hardly seemed those in the drawings cared.
He heard Apollo enter the home as well, muttering about the dust.
Hermes found him, and shared the concerned look.

“He's not here… and it seems like he hasn't been for a long time.”
Hermes said softly, Apollo nodding as he looked around the entrance area.
He sighed softly, shaking his head.

“I spoke to Hera, asked if she had seen Ares lately… she said she could have sworn to have seen him last month… But I doubt it. Not with his home looking like this.”
Apollo muttered, eyeing the sword Hermes still clutched
“... You found that on the beach, yes? Why don't we search the area for more clues. Surely there has to be something we are missing.”

Hermes nodded, and led Apollo straight to the spot he found the sword.
The two of them searched about, but as the sun started to dip below the horizon, they had nothing else but the sword Hermes had found.
It was as if Ares had vanished into thin air.

Hermes was visibly upset, he felt so entirely stupid for not noticing the signs sooner, for not realizing something was wrong.
Now, it was too late for them to find any evidence as to where Ares had gone, let alone be able to find him.

Apollo gently placed a hand on Hermes’ shoulder, giving his little brother a remorseful look
“Come, we won't find much in the dark. Artemis is still busy with the party, so the moon will not provide us help this evening… We can come back tomorrow to continue looking.”

Hermes almost wanted to protest, the sun hadn't fully set yet, they still had time, but as he opened his mouth to speak, another voice broke through.

“... You both… You are the little war god's brothers, correct?”

Hermes whirled around, looking at the tall woman who stood a small ways away from them both.
She was regal, beautiful, but with a gaze as sharp as glass cuts.
One of her hands rested on the stone that the giants became, the other holding tightly to the cloak wrapped around her shoulders.
Hermes looked to Apollo, his brother's eyes watching the woman carefully.

Hermes nodded, looking back towards the woman
“... We are. We are looking for him, do you know where he is?”

The woman paused, eyes flicking between Hermes and Apollo, before fully resting on Hermes
“... I do.”
She said finally, holding her ground as Hermes stepped forwards
“Where is he? What do you know?”
Hermes demanded, though it was less threatening and more frantic over the knowledge that someone else knew where Ares was.

The woman raised a hand to quiet Hermes, and the messenger fell silent, though his body was nearly vibrating with the force of his worry
“I feel I have done him a disservice… I have reflected on my rage and sorrows for many moons, and while the moon goddess is busy celebrating the murder of my children, I too have held my own private celebration.”

Hermes felt a chill rush down his spine as the woman all but revealed her identity.
Had she taken Ares?

“However,”
She continued
“The punishment I believed I was putting you all through seems to only have affected one soul… And one who was innocent enough to the entire ordeal…”
She took a breath, and shook her head
“I am Eriboea. Mother to the slain giants… The very same who stole away Ares and kept him trapped in their hydriai, and lost him during their fight with the moon… I listened to his wails for rescue… I believed it fitting to hear him suffer, in revenge for what had been done to my sons… But I see now how foolish I have been…”

She motioned towards a cove off in the distance, further than Hermes or Apollo had traveled to look
“He was not the one who caused my suffering, and I shall no longer impose his… Go to him, quickly… I… I have been unable to hear his cries for a month now… I fear I am too late in telling you this.”

Hermes hardly heard the last part of her speech, running as fast as he was able to the cove.
He skidded on the sand, nearly crashing into the rocks himself as he finally made it.
He looked around desperately, nearly choking as he saw the jar Eriboea had mentioned.
It was sticking up out of the sand, resting slightly on its side, with the lid buried deep.
Hermes rushed at it, shoving it with all his might to get it unstuck.

The jar slumped over, and Hermes settled it before prying at the lid.
It was stuck fast, clearly having been buried further by the tide, and sealed with all the sand and water that had gotten too close.

Eventually, Hermes was able to pry the lid away, falling backwards as it suddenly released.

Hermes sat up, and approached the now open jar, eyes landing upon the scene inside.

There was a boy, laying on his side, slightly tousled from the way the jar had rolled.
His hair was strewn about, a red ribbon frayed and slightly torn lay around it, as if having held the hair back at one point.
The breastplate that clung to a torso that was entirely too thin was rusting and decorated with a sickening golden hue.
The red chiton caught his attention next, torn in many places, looking more like one recovered from a battlefield than worn by a god.

Hermes almost hadn't noticed how he was crying, if not for the tears that blurred his vision as he looked to Ares face.
Ichor stained the jar, the glittering gold sparkling in the low light of the sun, though it stained Ares the most; Hermes could see it in his hair, all over his face, he could follow its path down his chiton and over the breastplate.
He could see the gash, the scar that caused so much ichor to spill, a messy and jagged thing that split across the left side of Ares’ head, just near his temple.

Hermes cradled Ares in his arms, trembling at how light and fragile he had become
“I've got you…”
Hermes spoke, voice trembling with a heavy thick fear, noticing how Ares seemed to look at him, but not recognize him
“I'm here now Ares… I'm here… I'm… I'm so sorry… How did we not…”
He kept talking, mumbling nonsense really as he just held Ares in his arms.

He nearly broke as finally it seemed Ares recognized who he was, and Hermes saw the swirl of excitement and relief flood Ares’ gaze, before it slipped away to one of concern and worry.
One of Ares’ hands twitched slightly, and it took Hermes a moment to realize what the other was doing.
Ares was attempting to comfort Hermes, the way his hand was moving was like the gentle circles he would rub into Hermes’ hand or shoulder whenever he got upset.
Hermes choked back another cry, gathering up Ares entirely to bring him out of the jar.

“Come on… Let's go home.”
He spoke softly, shifting as carefully as possible, before noticing Ares wasn't focused on him any longer.
He turned to look at what Ares was staring at, but it was simply just the outside of the jar.
He shifted Ares in his arms, ready to sprint back out, when he felt the other go slack.
Hermes nearly dropped Ares in fright, eyes wide as he looked to his older brother as his eyes slipped closed.

“No… No no, Ares- wake up, please, Ares! Ares!”
Hermes stumbled back out of the jar, clutching Ares to his chest, and frantically searched for Apollo, still begging Ares to open his eyes.

Dashing towards the loctated sun god, Hermes nearly crashed straight into him, sobbing hysterically as he clutched Ares protectively.
Apollo's eyes were wide at the sight in front of him, grabbing Hermes by the shoulders to try and ground him
“Take Ares straight to Asclepius. He will know exactly what to do, I will be right behind you.”

Apollo's firm and direct instructions eased Hermes’ frantic worries.
He did exactly as he was told, Asclepius taking only one look before scooping Ares from Hermes and beginning to work.
Apollo was indeed not far behind, clearly having run himself, and gently steered Hermes away from the scene.
He settled his younger brother just outside the room, giving him a gentle look, before turning to attend to Ares and aid Asclepius.

Hermes sat quietly, staring down at his hands, slightly stained with the same ichor that had nearly covered Ares.
Thoughts swirled in his head, moving as fast as he could, he was unable to catch one thought for longer than a few seconds at a time, before moving on to the next.
He was scared, a deep pit felt like it opened up in his chest, knowing what he did now.
Knowing that Ares had not been ignoring them, or sulking, or pouting.
But trapped, scared and alone in a jar, screaming for help up until a month prior, as Eriboea said.

Hermes felt horrible, even if he hadn't known, he still felt as if he should have known.
He curled up in the seat he was left in, listening to Apollo and Asclepius speaking to each other.
They were too far away for him to make out exactly what they were saying, but it was a distraction from the pit that was trying to consume him.

He tried closing his eyes, but that didn't help, flashes of Ares laying so broken, so still, popped into his mind.
So, he kept his eyes open, quiet and still, waiting for Apollo to come and get him.
Waiting to make sure Ares was safe.

Chapter Text

It had taken weeks for Ares to actually open his eyes again.
Stable as he was, it was clear that his time secluded and unable to heal properly took a heavy toll on him.
Hermes attended to his side everyday, until one day he arrived to Ares staring blankly at the ceiling above.

It honestly startled Hermes, to see his brother awake but not there.
Hovering over Ares didn't seem to even catch the war gods attention, staring through Hermes as if he wasn't even there.
By the time he'd gotten Apollo to check on Ares, the other had closed his eyes once again, and that trend continued until weeks later when Apollo had mentioned he caught Ares staring at him in complete silence.

It was almost scary to see, and Hermes likely would have panicked more if not for Apollo soothing his worries and explaining it was likely that Ares was still in a state of shock.
His mind was trying to protect him, after all he had been trapped away for a year or so, so his absence was likely a response to that.

It was an explanation.
Not that either of them liked it.

Hermes did his best to bring Ares out of it.
He tried in vain with food at first, Apollo had told him Ares was dangerously starved; among the list of other ailments, but there was no reaction.
Next he just tried talking about everything and anything, but all he received in return was more blank looks.

Not even jokes he'd acquired from the mortals helped.

But the one task that boiled Hermes’ ichor like nothing else, was trying to get the others to visit Ares and help.
It was like pulling teeth!
Everyday Hermes went to that wretched party, asking god after god to visit Ares.
He was brushed aside more times than he could count, and grew all the more desperate and frayed.

At first, he asked those he thought would rush to see Ares; Hera, Zeus, Athena, Artemis, but none wished to leave.
He tried again, and again, but to no avail.
The only one he knew visited was Athena.
He knew because he saw her haunted visage as she left the infirmary, and did not return.

He branched out after that, seeking Dionysus, Aphrodite, Eris, anyone who would listen.

Eris made half promises to visit, and while Hermes wasn't entirely sure she had, at least she accepted his frantic pleading.
Aphrodite did attend once, but even Hermes could see the horror on her face as she hardly stepped close to Ares.
Her eyes moved frantically, as if seeing something he couldn't, and when pressed; she only apologized to him softly, and left.

Hermes felt angry, so entirely furiously angry.
What right did they all have to feel upset?
To refuse to attend to Ares, to refuse to even look at him.
To feel shame in the place of just needing to protect.

He never felt such rage in his life, not with or about anyone else.
It broke him to see this, to know their family simply did not care.

Hermes would admit he would have had different sentiments had it been himself or Apollo, or any of the other numerous ‘bastards’ Zeus had the pleasure of creating, but Ares was the supposed Golden Child of Zeus and Hera.
One step down from Athena, sure, but treasured by them both all the same.

But seeing how they discarded Ares in such an easy manner?
It admittedly terrified him.
If this was how they treated their supposed favourite, how would the rest of them fair when push would come to shove?

But those thoughts irked him too, how dare he feel so piteous towards himself; he was not the one broken here.

Hermes was brought from his thoughts at a peculiar sound.

He'd been heading back into the infirmary to once again see his brother, thinking of ways to coax him back, but as he entered the silent halls, a loud clatter rang towards him.
He headed towards the sound, pace mild as he called out for Apollo, wondering if something important had fallen.

When there was no response, Hermes picked up the pace a little, worried at the lack of response.
Though his worry would only increase as he noticed the lack of Ares in his bed, and further as he realized the other was now on the ground.
Hurrying over, Hermes huffed about Apollo not watching over Ares better, despite the movement being a tad bit exciting to see.

Hermes checked his elder brother over just in case, and was about to bring him back to bed when he felt a hand touch his cheek.
He froze, eyes wide as he stared at Ares, and seeing for the first time in weeks that Ares was looking at him.

“... Are yo-u… Rea-al?”

Hermes winced slightly, Ares’ voice sounded so rough and weak at the same time, it pained him to hear how scratchy the once lively god's voice had become.

But as the question settled around him, he realized what Ares meant.
All this time, Ares hadn't been reacting the way he had been because he was in shock, he acted that way because he thought he was imagining them.

“... Yeah… Yeah lil boss, I'm real.”

Hermes felt a lump form in his throat, trembling as the cold realization washed over him completely.
Ares hadn't believed they were real, that he was free.
It made Hermes' stomach roll, but he quickly pulled himself together as suddenly Ares seemed to start to panic.

He hesitated, trying to reach out and soothe his brother, when Ares recoiled harshly from him.
Hermes snatched his hand away, not knowing what to do as Ares began to make sounds akin to someone dying as he curled in on himself.

Surging to his feet, Hermes called for Apollo, nearly screaming as he carefully picked up Ares to bring him back to the bed.
Apollo rushed in not a moment later, eyes wide as he realized quickly what was going on.

Though Ares’ reaction to the sun god was not one either of them was expecting, Hermes was careful to not let Ares get hurt again, easing him back a bit as he clung to Apollo like the world depended on it.

They were all very quiet for a moment as it seemed Ares was gathering his strength to speak, and Hermes watched as Apollo gently soothed and waited for Ares to gather that strength.

“A-Are th-.... Th-ey sa-afe?”

“Is who safe, Ares?”

“M-om… A-Artem-...”

As Ares broke off into a fit of coughs, Hermes felt that same boiling rage taking over him.
He noticed Apollo mumbling to him to get Ares water, and did, but even the relief that settled in his own chest as Ares eagerly gulped down the liquid did not quell his anger.
Even after all that he had been through, Ares was still worried over two who could not be bothered to visit him.

Apollo captured Hermes’ eyes, and the two had a silent battle that Hermes knew he would not win.
He could not break Ares’ heart in such a manner, and so needed to be civil.

“They're both doing fine, darling, but here, why don't you write your questions down, and we can answer, hm?”

Hermes produced a quill and parchment easily, handing it to Ares and watching as he struggled to write things down.
It hurt to watch, so many questions about the others, how they were fairing, if the giants really were gone, if his family was safe.

Ares was writing slow enough for Hermes to read them all before the paper was even handed over.
All so perfectly mundane, as if Ares had simply been on a long trip to the mortal world and was just catching up.

Hermes heard himself make a comment about how many questions Ares had, and felt like he was on autopilot as he answered a few, avoiding the one question he knew would send it all crashing down.

But he also knew Ares had the right to know how long he had been gone for.
How long they hadn't noticed.

Hermes knew it wouldn't be a pretty thing to learn, that it would hurt bad...
Which is why he couldn't bring himself to say it, to admit that he too hadn't noticed.
That he believed Ares was simply being a brat, too stubborn and hardheaded to know when he'd been beat.
That he hardly made any attempt at checking in on Ares.

That he let his brother rot in that jar for a year-

Hermes jumped in his seat as Apollo's hand found his shoulder, not even having realised he'd begun rambling at such a rapid pace.
He looked up at the sun god as he spoke, soft but firm as he relayed the information Hermes simply dreaded.

“... You've been gone for about thirteen months.”

It settled like a suffocating heat.
Rolling over them, drowning them, it was…

Hermes placed a hand on Ares’ arm as he watched the war god take it in.
He was entirely focused on Ares, hardly noticing as Apollo took his leave, though milled close by.

Hermes felt as though he was about to crack, watching and waiting for Ares’ gaze to turn to him in hatred, but that didn't happen.
Instead, Ares turned to him with an expression Hermes could only see as comforting.
Ares reached out to Hermes to soothe him.

Him!

Hermes broke then, nearly sobbing as apologies flowed from him like the river of tears from his eyes.
He could barely contain himself as he clung to Ares, trying to hold himself back a bit, but finding his heartache unable to be contained.
But Ares took it all in stride, brushing his tears away and soothing his pain as if it was a scraped knee from their playful spars.

Another icy stab hit Hermes then, realizing their playful fights would likely be over, Hermes was now much too big to be at any sort of fair advantage for Ares.
Not to mention Apollo had spoken of Ares likely needing to work triple time once he was better to gain back the devotion he lost over the year he was gone.

Though Hermes was sure he could help with that.

Even still, despite being in such a state, Hermes could see Ares was doing his best to cheer him up, and Hermes returned the favor, happy to tease Apollo alongside Ares, only moving away from the war god to open the window as requested.

There was silence between the two as Hermes watched Ares look out the window, but he nearly slammed it shut as Ares began to cry.
He didn't know why Ares cried, but as the other pleaded with him silently to leave it open, he did.

He sat back down on the bed, cautious as he observed what Ares was doing.
Of course, the notion came to him soon after, as the breeze filtered in, and nonsense conversations drifted passed.
Hermes knew Ares had not felt or heard any of these things in such a long time, so suddenly hearing, and feeling, and seeing it all must have been… A lot.

He watched as Ares took in as much of it as he could, and then slowly lose the battle against sleep.
The terrified expression and reaching for Hermes sealed the deal for the trickster, who gently took up his brother's gripping hand, wanting to reassure him.

“I'll be right here when you wake up, alright?”

The slight nod was all he got as Ares drifted off, silence filling the room as Hermes shifted and tucked Ares in properly.
Hermes watched him sleep for a few moments, feeling like it was the first time in a long while Ares actually slept.

Apollo approached quietly, watching Ares as well
“... I can feel how angry you are, Hermes… While I don't think you are unjustified in feeling that way, i do think you need a moment to collect yourself… if Ares picks up on that anger, and you cannot explain to him why you are angry-”

“I know.”
Hermes snapped, then sighed feeling bad for doing so.
He rubbed a hand across his face, taking a breath
“It's just… I can't imagine what he went through… I can't begin to imagine what he'll go through… but even despite all that, knowing no one…. He still asks about them first? If they are ok? If they…”
Hermes looked away, wiping at his eyes again as he took another breath, careful to not yell.

Apollo gently squeezed his shoulder, nodding slightly
“I know… Im… I'm angry too. Furious even… But we can't let it continue within us… We need to let it go to help Ares in the long run… he can't heal if we hold grudges we don't even deserve to hold.”

Hermes sniffled, pouting as he looked to his older brother
“I hate it so much when you're so wisely right…”
He muttered, Apollo smiling and ruffling his hair.

“That's my job Hermes… Now, why don’t you get some rest too? Don't think I haven't noticed you staying up all night to watch over him…”

Hermes just huffed, but crawled in beside Ares, unwilling to leave his side
“Fine. I'll rest… but wake me up right away if anything happens.”

Apollo just nodded, and slightly closed the window, but left it open a bit.
Hermes could still feel the breeze, and hear the slight bustle outside.
He took a gentle breath, watching Ares’ chest rise and fall, lulling him to sleep and dreaming of days spent laying in the grass and basking in the warm sun with his brother, safe and happy.