Antigone looked up at him for a long moment, but then closed her eyes and just sat there, cradling her arm, for another. She didn't know about brave. Brave would have been doing something sooner. Brave would have been doing something alone. "Do you think Bia's alright?" she asked, afraid to look at his face while she waited for his answer (brave really was the wrong word.)
She wasn't even brave enough to open her hand and see if it was broken, and she flinched again at the memory of Ares' strength, forcing it back, his huge fingers crushing her hand. "We shouldn't have left her," she said, just as Bia burst into the room. Another impossibility. Antigone stared at her, and eventually remembered to breathe again. "You're not dead," she said, in relief, and shock, and guilt. If Bia had died and she hadn't...