Zeus thought he looked like his father? Deimos couldn't help a little bit of preening at that. He didn't often catch Ares' eye for that pat on the back, and Deimos had worked long and hard to get the "bit of random mayhem" look going, and he was very--
Oh. Gramps was fussy about the blood. Crap. He probably should've taken those extra few seconds to wash his molecules off on the way up here.
A crap that was immediately reinforced by Zeus' next question and comment. Both of which had to be answered very, very carefully if one did not want to get smited into the middle of the next millennium. Why oh why oh why couldn't Hera make an appearance right about now? Wasn't there a nymph that Gramps needed to be yelled at for? He could count on Hera to take his side, sometimes, and he was really willing to take his chances with her today.
Aaaaand he'd be expecting an answer. Crap.
"Er, interrupting? Not really. Nothing that I couldn't--and didn't--stop to get here fast as I could," Deimos pointed out quickly, his hope for high marks for speed quickly fading. "I'm sure that kid'll be walking right in no time." Maybe he should qualify that a little. "I mean, I was just cleaning up some strays from the big battle. Father said no survivors, so I was just in the middle of a sweep-up. Nothing I can't finish later."