Melpomene nodded, tight and tense, and whirled back into Telos' room to pick him up and hold him close against her chest. It took everything she had not to sink to her knees and sob, something in Marcie's rage and grief resonated painfully with her own, like a tuning fork hit with a sledgehammer; the vibrations were going to shake her apart.
"Shh-shh-shhh," she whispered against Telos' head while she paced around the room, desperately seeking comfort herself, and failing to find it. Her hands still felt bloody, even against the baby-soft cotton of his onesie. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking, even after he quietened enough that she could risk re-joining Ares in the kitchen without irritating him too much.
She didn't put Telos down though. Nothing else could anchor her now.
"I wouldn't put it past her to sneak in and try to burn us in our beds," she said quietly, standing close enough that she could smell the alcohol in his glass. She rather desperately wanted someone huge to put their arms around her, but knew better than to hope for that kind of comfort from him.