Chapter Text
Scott had known either Nikos or Pyro wouldn't be coming back from the arena.
After all, both warriors were on their final life.
There were no more obol coins.
No more second chances.
Someone was dying for good today.
Someone was going to the Underworld and never coming back again.
But a part of Scott had never truly thought it would be Nikos.
"We're celebrating tonight!" Scott called down to Nikos in the arena, forcing on a smile.
However, the answering smile on Nikos's face didn't reach his eyes.
"You know where the wine is."
"You can show us," Scott countered quickly, heart beating fast. Too fast. "Cause you'll be there with us."
Nikos gave him a rueful, tired look.
A look that reminded Scott of the way Nikos had looked when telling Scott about how his homeland had been conquered and his people enslaved.
"We shall see."
Scott was an actor. He knew when he had to play his part. When he had to put on a mask and adapt to whatever was best for the show.
The show much go on.
The show much go on.
The show must–
But when Nikos was struck down and didn't get back up... something inside of Scott broke.
(Shattered.)
He'd stared in disbelief along with everyone else.
Or, at least, nearly everyone else.
"Good riddance," Pearl muttered from across the arena, staring coldly down at Nikos's dying body.
Like he was scum.
Like Nikos was the one who somehow didn't deserve to be alive.
Like it wasn't Pearl who had betrayed everyone time and time again, and as a result, had no one who cared for her the way that so many people here cared for Nikos.
(Scott would know a thing or two about being the one no one truly cared about. Both in life... and, it seemed, in death as well. After all, he had woken up alone after his First Death. He knew it had taken him a while to return to the land of the living, but a part of him had still thought... had hoped that someone...)
(Scott had laid in his bed for a long while.)
(Wondering if someone would come.)
(Shelby. Drift. Perhaps even Cleo?)
(Wouldn't Nikos come?)
(...)
(But no one came.)
(When the sun finally came up, Scott knew he should stop being so pathetic. He had been tending to his garden alone for hours before Abolish had visited him.)
(Nikos, however, had barely given Scott a second look when they met up again... which was fine. They had bigger worries, after all.)
(Far bigger than Scott's own pathetic, foolish feelings.)
(But no matter what his allies felt about him, Scott knew he had done right by them. Knew that he had done everything in his power to protect them and help them however he could.)
(Pearl would never be able to say the same.)
Scott knew he had to play his part, that with Nikos gone their remaining group needed to be smarter than ever (especially with all the lives that had been lost this week), but he'd fired an arrow at Pearl before he knew what he was doing.
"Good riddance," her voice echoed in his ears.
The actor wasn't prepared for a fight. He had given so much of his armor, his wind charges, and his remaining food to Nikos. To try and give the warrior any more of a chance of surviving.
(Of returning to Scott.)
(Or at least... of returning alive, even if it wasn't to Scott.)
(It's not like Nikos was ever 'his' in any way in the first place. They were just... having fun. Stress relief, which was very necessary in this sick game.)
(Scott knew the part he was meant to play.)
But even if Scott hadn't given those resources, this was Pearl – the one person who everyone had feared since Day 1. His feeble wind powers against her forces of darkness would be like a lamb to the slaughter.
And yet, Scott couldn't stop himself.
If he had done nothing, even in the face of such disgrace of one he cared about so deeply – or at least as much as someone like him could care for – Scott truly wouldn't have known what to do with himself.
(Scott may be an actor. He may be a liar, a cheat, a thief, and undoubtedly so many things that Nikos and the others would hate if they ever saw the true depths of him – such as his shallowness, selfishness, lack of identity, and so on for eternity – but at least he was loyal.)
(...right?)
(In truth... that loyalty was likely just another form of selfishness, wasn't it?)
(It wouldn't be the first time Scott hadn't wanted to let go. Where he hadn't wanted to give up things even if they weren't his to take or have.)
(Even if the things he was clinging to had no intention of clinging back.)
Nothing came of Scott's arrow.
Maybe a fight would have happened had Abolish not been nearby, grabbing Scott and giving Pearl a warning look while keeping the actor close by – his blazing touch did little to thaw out the numbness that had taken over Scott – but Pearl had only snorted. Rolled her eyes as if Scott was just being dramatic before leaving without another word.
Pearl probably wouldn't remember what she had said the next day.
She'd probably brush it off the same way she had brushed off the way she had cruelly tricked Shelby away from the party following Scott's death and murdered her.
But Scott would remember.
Just like how Scott remembered Nikos's other final words from right before the match started.
"Do you need anything for the fight?" Scott asked, his voice tighter than usual. His mask was cracking, his tone filled with a worry he hated because Nikos didn't need any doubt or further unnecessary feelings right now. "If you run out of food, just call to us, okay? Just let us know."
Sure, Scott had just about given Nikos everything he could possibly give – his food, his last wind charges, even his armor – but it didn't feel like enough.
(It hadn't been enough.)
Nikos had only chuckled softly. The sound was deep, steady, and entirely unbothered by the looming shadow over his final life. For the first time, he seemed completely at peace with facing their bitter enemies.
(Enemies that Scott couldn't help but hate more because he knew, in another life, they could've been friends.)
"I know it's hostile between our sides," Scott said before to Pyro, giving the warrior a small smile. "And it kind of has to be, but... I did enjoy the times we weren't hostile to each other."
Maybe such words wouldn't be appreciated, but Scott was genuinely touched at Pyro's request to hear about some of Scott's past shows later - especially since the two groups had been rarely able to meet without a fight breaking out. As long as Pyro didn't go into the arena today and lose his last life... the actor would definitely take him up on that. Feather Holder or not, the idea sounded... really nice.
Pyro's eyes, just like Scott's were sad. Tired. He nodded with a slow, wistful smile.
"I wish all of us could have just... been mortals. Still breathing."
(They had all laughed and talked with each other and gotten to known each other even if the circumstances were fucked up so why did they have to tear each other apart and why did they have to hurt each other in ways that hurt more than swords and it didn't have to be this way–)
(These damn damn damn DAMN GODS–)
Scott's hands trembled by his side, swallowing as he studied the man in the arena.
How could he be so close to Nikos and yet so helpless?
In yet another bout of selfishness, Scott desperately wished he could reach out and touch Nikos. To call a temporary time out. To damn anyone who objected. Anything to feel the warrior's warm, beating chest beneath his hands once more.
But he couldn't.
The only way out of this was through bloodshed.
'It's not fair,' Scott wanted to cry out. 'I died during the last arena match. I haven't been able to touch you or spend the night with you since before my death. And in the week since then... the only time I've spent with you has been plotting revenge, and even that has barely been any time at all! Especially since your dumb, noble self had to go and die yet again playing by rules that the Feather Holders won't follow! Why do they get to steal your time, but not me!?'
(...of course, that was assuming that Nikos would've even wanted to spend more time with Scott at all.)
(After all, there was undoubtedly a reason why Nikos had been so difficult to find since Scott's death.)
(...a reason why his (former?) lover had barely looked Scott in the fact this entire time.)
"Pretty One," Nikos asked softly as he returned from his Second Death. "Are you alright?"
The warrior looked at Scott, examining his body for one intense second that lit the actor's skin on fire... before looking away again.
'How can I be alright if you won't even look at me?' Scott wanted to scream. 'What did I do wrong? I entered the arena to protect all of you. I died, yes, but I tried my best! Why do you hate me now for it!?'
(Or... am I just being conceited? Maybe it has nothing to do with what I did or could've done. Maybe you just... grew bored of me?)
(Like everyone does eventually.)
Instead of any of this, Scott had said what had been on his mind this entire time since watching Apo end Nikos's Second Life.
"You need to stop having honor against people who don't."
Not that it had mattered in the end.
None of it mattered.
"You have given me all I need and more," Nikos murmured, bringing Scott back to the present. The warrior's expression softened beneath the weight of his helmet. "Don't worry."
"I trust you'll come back," Abolish said beside Scott, leaning against a nearby column.
The gladiator seemed as composed as always. His arms crossed, posture deliberate and unyielding.
And yet, Scott could see a nervousness that maybe even the observant blacksmith didn't even notice. It was small, but Scott could see the way Abolish was tapping his fingers insistently against his arm – a terse, uneven rhythm. It did not match the steady, calm pace that Abolish used in everything. His walking. His forging. His fighting. Even his words.
(It was even more proof of how, even if Abolish wouldn't admit it and remained stubbornly committed to the idea of neutrality, he did care about their team.)
(Or at least Nikos.)
It was hard to believe that, just a few hours ago, Scott and Nikos had been laughing as they had to – yet again – dig Abolish out of a wall after a so-so aimed lightning strike.
The lightning bolt landed with a crash, Scott catching himself onto the path with a bit of help from the wind.
Nikos frowned, looking around. "I went too far–"
"Hey, Nikos?" came Abolish's voice and the sound of damage happening repeatedly. But instead of sounding alarmed, Abolish sounded like a strange mix of irritated and smug. "Hey, hey, Nikos?
"NO!" Nikos shrieked, launching himself at the wall to try and search for wherever Abolish was. "NOT AGAIN! NOT AGAIN NOT AGAIN NOT AGAIN–"
Scott smothered a laugh, also helping to mine the area. He was perplexed that Abolish hadn't appeared already. "Where are you???"
Abolish popped out of a stone opening a few blocks to the right. He looked extremely unimpressed, brushing the remnant dust from his body and eating to recover his health.
"Not again! I hate this! Nikos shrieked, his voice filled with both laughter and alarm. "How does this keep happening to only you!?"
"Hey, so, that was the third time?" Abolish said dryly, staring at Nikos with a very unimpressed expression.
"I am sorry, Pretty One!" Nikos begged. "I do not mean to put you in the ground just yet! We talk. We say when the time comes. But not now. Not yet."
"Yes," Abolish said with a nod.
Then the gladiator took out a sword and promptly smacked Nikos.
"OW!" Nikos whined, holding his arm with a pout. It was clear that he hadn't actually been injured, but it had definitely sizzled given the flames. "You know, I deserve that. That is fine. This is fine."
Scott reached up to muffle his laughter, giggling for what felt like the first time since before his First Death.
"You poor souls," Scott said with sympathy, though Abolish didn't look very convinced by the way he rolled his eyes. "Getting stuck in walls and burned by karma... want me to kiss it better?"
Nikos's eyes lit up, and Scott was (desperately) hoped he'd agree–
Then... Nikos seemed to catch himself.
His brow furrowed. The warrior's eyes seemed pained for a moment... before the look faded and he glanced away again.
"We are even now," Nikos said to Abolish, acting like nothing had happened (again). "Even on this, yes?"
"...yeah," Abolish said slowly, glancing between Scott and Nikos. It made Scott's skin burn, but in a bad way. In a way that made him desperately want to pull down the curtains and hide like the coward he was. "We are even now."
They'd been smiling.
Even if had been for such a short time, the three of them had been smiling together.
(Just like they had used to.)
But now... Nikos was in the arena.
And Scott and Abolish were left just watching up here.
...why did it end up like this?
(WHY DID IT END UP–)
"I'll still worry," Scott whispered, staring down at the dirt next to Nikos.
Scott wasn't sure if he had meant to say that, but he found that he would've regretted it if he hadn't.
Regretted it on a personal, selfish level, that is. Nikos undoubtedly already knew how much Scott cared. For all of Scott's vast experiences with casual relationships and his knowledge that Nikos also viewed their encounters as just for fun, his yearning-filled attachment to the warrior from Thrace was probably obvious to everyone.
If it wasn't before, it was now given how Scott had been waiting and looking for Nikos this entire week only to find the warrior never around or surrounded by others – Cleo in particular.
Scott was happy Nikos and Cleo had bonded, especially given how cautious and distrustful of everyone Cleo had been in the beginning. It was clear that the satyr must have suffered greatly in whatever their life had been like before this.
Scott had been... surprised to find out that Nikos and Cleo had both agreed upon the same Wish, which was Scott's Wish too since he still intended to give it to Nikos should he somehow win, but the way the two had kept going off to talk in secret... leaving Scott behind even though they knew he was on board with whatever Nikos wanted...
"But Nikos has seen enough of me anyway," Scott said to Abolish in the garden, forcing a smile even as he wanted to cry. "I'm sure he'll find me when he finds me."
...but he never did.
...well, Scott knew when he wasn't wanted.
(He knew when he had become more of an annoyance than an entertainment.)
(Even with all the work Scott had put in to be someone likable, to be someone people would want around... well, there was a reason even his own parents hadn't given him the time of day in the end.)
But even so... Scott just wanted to remind Nikos, or any part of the warrior that still saw Scott as a friend and ally (even if not a lover anymore), that he – and many others – would be distraught if Nikos did not return.
And yet... the air around Nikos did not change.
(What did Scott expect? His words clearly meant nothing to Nikos anymore.)
(Scott meant nothing to Nikos anymore.)
Instead, Nikos glanced between Scott and Abolish. He studied them for a few moments before giving a ruthless smirk.
"If I do not return..." Some of the light returning to Nikos's eyes. "Make them pay for it."
Scott didn't answer.
He didn't want to.
He had felt, with a sickening, superstitious dread, that agreeing to Nikos's request would somehow make his demise manifest in real life.
Scott didn't want that.
Didn't want this to be the final curtain call for Nikos.
Didn't want to say goodbye.
'Gods, please,' Scott prayed fervently. 'I know it's selfish, but please please please don't take Nikos from me. Not yet. I will give my obol coin. I will take his place in the arena. I will directly give my life – both lives – with no strings attached. Please don't take the only person that I thought, even for a moment, could love me despite all the miserable masks I've worn. Even without my selfishness, he deserves to live – not me. Nikos's Wish is pure and good and far better than me who can't even pretend to be half the man that he is–'
But Abolish, still tapping his arm, gained a dry, reckless smirk on his lips. He gave a quick nod to Nikos's final request.
"Sure, why not?" Abolish said casually, shrugging. "More fighting for me."
"Works for me, Pretty One," Nikos has replied, a faint ghost of a smile on his lips.
It was clear that Nikos was talking to Abolish – after all, Scott had long since been designated as only getting that title on a secondary or third-place or even fourth-place basis – but Scott's heart still skipped at beat when Nikos turned to look at him.
For a long, agonizing second, the silence between them stretched out.
There was a look in Nikos's eyes.
Heavy.
Somber.
...regretful.
Scott wondered if his eyes looked the same. He hoped not. It had always been clear that his role in a relationship was to entertain. To uplift and amuse.
If he couldn’t even do that for Nikos in these final moments, what good was he?
(No wonder Nikos had stopped paying attention to him.)
Nikos opened his mouth, paused, closed it, and then turned towards the other side of the arena where Pyro was waiting. He walked forward, never looking back at the actor even once.
It was the last time Scott and Nikos ever spoke.
Scott wished that he had something, anything, before those final moments. But even as he looked back on their last conversation... he doesn't know what he would've said.
(Would Nikos have even wanted to hear, given how little he'd wanted to see Scott in this last week?)
Why couldn't I have been put in? Scott thought blankly, staring at the floor of his room following the afterparty. The selection was just one away from me. If it had just moved over one more spot and fallen on my face instead of his... it would’ve been me. Not him.
But the arena selection was never fair, it seemed.
It wasn't fair when Nobody had been put in for just taking his god's so-called Blessing.
It wasn't fair when Cleo and Drift got pit against each other.
It wasn't fair when Sausage and Owen had to fight as well.
It wasn't fair when Abolish had to fight three on one.
It wasn't fair when Owen, put in only once by someone who had refused to say, had turned out to be the ultimate counter of Scott's powers.
Even with this last fight being between members on opposite sides, it had been of those who only had one obol coin left...
None of it was fair.
...
So why did it keep hurting so badly?
Scott sat on his bed, alone. He knew that Cleo had wanted company, that she deserved to have a shoulder to mourn on given how much (closer) she had been with Nikos than him, and that if nothing else Scott should at least be able to entertain (for Nikos's sake if nothing else), but he just... he just had needed to be alone.
Alone with his own cruel, agonizing thoughts of What If.
Why didn't I give Nikos the immunity? Scott screamed at himself, wishing he had Owen's ability to rewind Time. Just enough for the actor to shove the Blessing into the warrior's hands and force him to use it. I should have. We didn't think Nikos would go in, that the Feather Holders would be so dishonorable to vote him again after already killing him this week– but Nikos still only had One Life left. I should have given it to him. I'm sure Cleo would've agreed. If Nikos had used the Immunity, it would've been me in the ring again. I still have TWO lives! If I had gone in, dying again would've been fine–
Scott gripped his hair, digging his fingers hard into his scalp, desperate for something physical to anchor him to the ground. Holding on so tightly hurt, but it was nothing compared to the hurt in his chest. Tears fell down his face, his hair doing very little to shield the sight of his pathetic state.
It was then that Scott caught sight of his hair. Nobody had already said that his hair had darkened, but it seemed to have darkened even more. No longer was it the pristine white it was in the beginning.
Now, his hair resembled storm clouds. An ugly and bruised grey. If his fans had been around, they would've gasped and his manager would've quickly ushered Scott to a private area to 'get ahold' of himself.
...but for the first time in Scott's life, he didn't give a damn how he looked.
What did looks matter in a death game? Especially a death game with far more attractive people than Scott. In the end, his looks were nothing more than a useless prop. Only Nikos had ever seemed receptive to his looks, but even he had moved on to greener pastures.
Not that Scott blamed him. Unlike the other "Pretty Ones" who had actual talent, lethal skills, and valuable life experiences to rely upon and soothe others – Nikos – with, Scott had absolutely nothing.
Nothing but a useless, pampered past life and a mental drawer full of broken masks.
...and broken masks weren't very pretty anymore, were they?
Scott paused, considering the thought... and then laughed.
He laughed and laughed and laughed.
The sound bounced off the wooden walls of his home – not a home, never a home, and yet it had been more of a home than Scott had ever experienced before when Nikos, Abolish, Shelby, and the others had been around – with a sharp and manic edge until dissolving into heavy, breathless sobbing.
"If I do not return... make them pay for it."
"The show isn't over, Nikos," Scott whispered, his light green eyes darkening as Nikos's final words echoed in his head. "I hope you're watching from wherever they've taken you now... because even if I was too much of a coward to answer your last request when you were alive, I will answer you in death. With their deaths."
Scott closed his eyes, unaware of the way the clouds on his head suddenly bloomed in a deep, black color. They rumbled, streaks of jagged lightning shooting across his hair.
"I swear, Nikos... I will make them pay."
o0o0o0o
They say you don't know what you have until it's gone.
Abolish had never been a fan of the saying. If you hadn't appreciated something while you had it, did you really actually value it at all?
And yet, Abolish realized he had.
If he hadn't, what else could explain this stabbing pain in his chest?
He'd checked a few - dozens – of times, and there was no wound. No old or new scar he could blame it on.
Just the truth.
When Abolish looked back, when he thought about randomly choosing a cave and being randomly accompanied by Nikos, he had been quite irritated. The warrior had a loud, unyielding presence that grated on Abolish's carefully constructed patience.
Then Scott and Shelby had found their way to the group, and Nikos had become especially loud and insufferable with Scott's flirtations and encouragement. Nobody had literally been banging his head on a wall at one point, and a part of Abolish had wanted to join him.
"-hey, Pretty One!"
Abolish sighed at the voice in the distance, interrupting the conversation he was having with Nobody.
"Hey, hey, Nobody. Nikos is calling for you."
Nobody stopped as Nikos came bounding over. Abolish kept walking up the stone path.
"Oh, hey, what's up?" Nobody asked Nikos.
But Nikos kept on walking, chasing after Abolish.
"No, you're Nobody," Nikos said to the hunter plainly before he kept going up the steps to catch up to Abolish. "You are Pretty One."
Abolish paused, brow furrowing as he glanced back to make sure the loud warrior was talking to him.
Unfortunately, it seemed like he was.
Nikos grinned flirtatiously at Abolish who just raised a brow.
Abolish huffed. "No, you called him Pretty One last time. So that's what I'm leaving it as."
Nikos laughed. "I can change my mind!"
Abolish rolled his eyes. He didn't have time for this.
"And I will keep pushing you to another direction."
Nikos laughed again.
"You can try."
But over time... and many (unwilling) conversations, Abolish's emotions had slowly shifted into begrudging acceptance – or at least, an exasperated knowledge that Nikos wouldn't stop bothering him anytime soon.
Scott was a common visitor as well, but he seemed quite adept at reading Abolish's moods (likely due to his background as an entertainer). The actor knew when or when not to push, even toning his flirtations and being surprisingly serious and adaptable for someone who had never faced combat in his mortal life.
Both could be helpful, and freely shared supplies and information, so Abolish was willing to put up with them.
For now.
But then... Abolish would find himself genuinely amused with both men. Smirking and even teasing back as their vibrant personalities somehow transformed from annoying to... comfortable.
Exasperating still, yes, but... somehow enjoyable, in an odd way.
Beneath that amusement, Abolish would realize that there was also... trust. A strange, quiet sort of trust with Scott – a shared understanding about the masks they all wore to survive. As well as a brutal, honest kind with Nikos's words that he would kill Abolish later, but not now.
Nikos had always been blunt like that. He was just as blunt when he dropped hints that he would like more between them – somehow giving Abolish the title of "Main Pretty One" despite the fact that Scott was right there - the actor who was the most mutually agreed upon attractive person around (and not just in looks).
Scott, of course, would flirt as well, but in a way that felt more like an open door. One that Abolish could choose to walk through, or walk out of, at any time.
(It... it was the first time Abolish felt like, maybe, he could have a place to return with. A place that wasn't just him alone with his thoughts.)
For some reason, even though Abolish would always bluntly turn down those offers, he'd... allowed Nikos and Scott to keep dropping hints.
Abolish knew, if he had asked, both would have stopped – the same way Nikos had stopped flirting with others when they had asked, or apologized when he thought he'd made someone uncomfortable. Such as when he had exasperatedly told Shelby and Drift to "just kiss already" before remembering that Shelby had a solo fiancé she wished to return to. Or even way back earlier when Nikos had stopped trying to show off his muscles to Apo when she said her feathers didn't fall that way.
(What simpler days those had been.).
Abolish didn't know why he kept allowing the hints. A lingering look over repairing their swords or armor. A casual hand resting too long on Abolish's shoulder. A touch to his face that Abolish didn't back away from immediately...
Abolish wasn't a monk. He had shared his bed with casual lovers before this, many of them being fellow gladiators also looking to work off some energy. He knew he could have it be no strings attached. That Nikos, and Scott who had essentially become a package deal with Nikos at this point and vice versa, would respect whatever type of relationship he chose.
And yet... Abolish didn't take up their offer (many offers, to be precise).
The gladiator told himself it was because this was a death game. Allowing such vulnerability was just asking to be suddenly stabbed in the back.
(Again.)
Plus, Abolish didn't have time. As he had told Scott following the actor's First Death, the blacksmith had to spend a lot of time in the mines. Gathering resources was an essential part of being able to use his gifts from Hephaestus, and he didn't have time for the constant mingling, after parties, and late night sessions that Nikos and Scott regularly indulged in.
(Though there hadn't been any of those late night sessions since Scott's First Death, if Abolish was reading the two correctly...)
And yet... Abolish's gaze would always linger over them.
To be fair, Nikos and Scott were very difficult to ignore.
They were attractive, far more clever than they looked, and had loud and vibrant personalities that showed off more than storms dancing in the sky.
There was like this... invisible pull that kept Abolish looking their way even when he (desperately) tried to ignore them.
This was a game of survival. He couldn't afford to get distracted. He'd declared himself neutral for a reason.
But then... Scott had volunteered to sacrifice himself.
And then Nikos had died.
And died again.
Now... Nikos was permanently gone, and Abolish was left standing in the tall ruins he had built so painstakingly, foolishly wishing for more time.
For more that he could have said.
For more they could have spoken about.
For more... everything.
It wasn't the first time Abolish had seen a warrior die – out of everyone here, he probably was one of the most familiar given that every day in the gladiator ring almost always meant someone's death – and yet... why did this feel so different?
So... painful?
The heavy weight of Abolish's uncertain feelings felt like swallowed glass, a dull, agonizing ache that scarred him on the inside. An ache that grew even worse when he passed by Nikos's house, or even returned to his own forge... knowing that those loud, teasing and heated moments between them wouldn't happen again.
Abolish tossed Nikos the horn.
"Actually, here's a gift." He snorted. "For someone who's equally as loud."
Nikos took the gift eagerly, breaking out in a grin at the sound it made.
"Oh ho ho!" Nikos grinned, moving up very close to Abolish's face. And Abolish... didn't back away. "Now you'll always know where I am!
Abolish snorted. To the side, Scott and Owen giggled as Apo rolled her eyes in mock annoyance.
"Yes," Abolish said with an exasperated sigh. "So I'll always know where you are even more."
Or even... the quieter moments. The glimpses of the true tragedy and grief that lied beneath the warrior’s exuberant demeanor.
"My friend, being very deadly is being very lonely," Nikos smiled bitterly. "And I do not wish to be alone. So please... PLEASE indulge me, okay?"
"At least... you won't be putting me into any more walls, Nikos," Abolish had huffed, swallowing down the terrible wine he'd gotten from Scott at the 'party'. "You'd probably be so annoyed, wouldn't you? Here I am, finally drinking your horrible wine... finally going to one of your stupid afterparties that you tried so hard to get me to attend before... and you're not even here."
Abolish closed his eyes, hearing the echo of Nikos's loud booming laughter in his ears.
But when he opened them... it was just him in the forge.
Alone.
As always.
I'm... I'm sorry Nikos, Abolish whispered in the quiet, cowardly confines of his mind. There's nothing I can do for you anymore. I... should have done more for you before. At the very least, I shouldn't have lied to you when you asked if I had any armor pants and I said mine was near breaking... when it wasn't. I thought you'd be fine. I didn't want to go through so much work again.
Abolish closed his eyes. Would things have been different if he had? He'd given his Hephaestus Blessing to Nikos, the first time he'd ever offered anyone or revealed more about his skills that weren't already known... but it hadn't been enough.
But Scott... he didn't hesitate. He gave you his armor. He gave you everything without a thought to his own safety or loss or calculations and I just... watched. I don't even have a Wish, nonetheless one as personal as yours, and yet I still watched you die. Watched knowing I could've done so much more. Knowing that if I had done more... maybe you'd still be here, annoying me still.
Abolish laughed to himself, wondering when he'd become so pathetic. Maybe he'd always been that way.
There was a reason his parents and country had exiled him, after all.
A reason he'd stayed in the arena even after he could leave.
Like he'd told Scott... he'd chosen being a killer and risking his life again and again over the idea of returning to the streets and being nothing.
That wasn't bravery, no matter what Scott thought.
That was cowardice.
You're gone, Nikos... and I can't change that, Abolish opened his eyes, looking up at the sky. Or more specifically, the clouds floating high above him. So far, and yet feeling like he could reach out and touch him if he just tried to. But Scott... you'd probably ask me to take care of him, wouldn't you? Say something about how "Pretty Ones need to stick together" or something else idiotic like that.
Abolish took another sip of the wine, swallowing down the burn. I don't know why you were ignoring him this past week, but I can tell it's not because you suddenly didn't care. If anything... it seemed like you were avoiding him because you cared too much.
Abolish frowned, remembering the clear shame on Nikos's face when he glanced at Scott when the actor wasn't looking.
Or... because you were too ashamed to face him? Though I don't know what you could've done that would make you think Scott would ever reject you... for all that actor likes to wear his masks, he's also extremely easy to see through. And when he was with you... it's the most vulnerable and genuine I've ever seen. The most genuine I think he has ever seen of himself as well.
Abolish sighed, getting up from his forge and forcing himself into bed. The bottle was empty, but he didn't let go of it. He told himself it was because he could always throw it at an intruder. Distract them for a moment in order to react and get the upper hand.
It's always about getting the upper hand, a dark, accusing voice whispered in his head. Isn't it, Abolish?
Abolish closed his eyes, blocking the voice out with longtime practice.
As usual, it will be a week until the next arena, Abolish thought. Until then... I guess all I can do is what I always did. Plan. Prepare.
...
But no plan could have prepared Abolish for what happened that next week.