(I Certainly Want To)

Mars POV

Korri isn't getting better.

The thick downpour had made it worse.

And her endless wake, and drawing.

She's starting to look like a raccoon with those dark circles under her eyes.

(No offense Korri.)

And I normally don't hope, but I'm certainly trying now.

I walk into my room, feeling hollow and broken inside.

I sit on my bed and make a decision.

A decision I hope I won't regret.

I pull the little golden eagle statue out from under my bed and pray.

I hate doing it, but I don't really have any other way to ask the Divine for help, so instead of a joyous thing—also cause I hate my father—this is a ditch attempt.

But I may as well try.

I can kinda sympathize her, I mean, sure, I had cried and felt like shit after Sol passed.

I couldn't even sleep for a while.

But I eventually locked that grief out, and it had recently started to come back for vengeance.

"I never thought you'd do that." Zeus's voice echoes in my head.

"This isn't for me," I mutter, "it's for Korri."

I can nearly hear him smirk. "Ohh, your filenáda, I remember she was quite sassy-"

"Just shut up." I say. "She's sick, and I dunno know what to do, and can't we make this more private?"

"If you say so,"

Suddenly the scene changes, to the outside of a house.

Its wooden roof and layered stone walls feel kinda like prison and home, it's conflicting.

I can see a little girl through one of the windows.

Her blond hair is cut short, and her piercing green and golden eyes seem slightly intimidating.

It looks like she was receiving quite the tongue-lashing from another girl who seems around her age.

I suddenly recognize her.

The girl with the green and gold eyes.

"Korri?" I whisper.

Zeus nods. "That was her and one of her sister's friends. Claire was her name. Claire decided best to take matters into her own hands instead of her parents."

"That's not what I meant by having this discussion a little more private." I mutter.

"Alright, I'll change it. Picky."

"It's just not a good place in time."

The scene changes again, and this time it's Asgard.

"HEY ARES!" someone shouts a few feet away.

Shit, the last thing I need is more attention.

"Zeus, I need to speak with Apollo, or some other healing- erm, medicinal god."

"That was all?" Zeus asks. "Then why didn't you go to one of the human 'doctors'?"

"Do you think that a doctor would believe that my 'family' had left to go on errands and that I found a girl on the road that seemed sick? Besides, I do not believe that kids my age are... like I am. At all."

"That's your excuse?" He frowns. "And no, I don't believe and it's very unlikely that they would believe that."

"See? And yes, that's my excuse. Don't judge."

"Well, fine, I will send you to Apollo's. But he may- erm, never mind."

"Well then send me on my way-"

The world suddenly starts to spin, and it's dark, and it's burning hot, and I feel like I'm trying to stay afloat in a whirlpool.

Not the funnest feeling.

Do not ask how I can make that comparison.

"Ares, long time no see." Someone says, but everything's still too fuzzy to tell who they are, but they sound familiar. "What are you doing in my sun chariot?"

I look around.

He's right.

I'm sitting in the back of Apollo's sun chariot with the sun burning behind.

That's why it's so hot.

Bucket list of things I never want to do:

Ride in a sun chariot.Live with ZeusTalk to ZeusHave anything to do with ZeusHang out with the DivineTalk to Apollo

I look at him.

He looks the same as he did a few weeks ago.

Same golden locks and dark, always ignorant eyes.

"Well," I finally say, silently begging for everything to stop spinning. "I came to get your help. As your um, step brother,— adopted brother?—that you might help me no questions asked. And I have no idea why I'm in your sun chariot."

"That depends on what you want help with."

I'm starting to regret pulling out that altar.

"I need help with..." and unwillingly the whole story tumbles out of me, all in a thick storm of words even I can't make out.

"Oh, so, your filenáda got sick, and you're crawling on your hands and knees to get me to heal her."

"First of all, she is not my girlfriend. Two, I am not crawling on my hands and knees begging. Three, the rest you got spot on."

Why does everyone keep saying she's my girlfriend? We're like twelve.

"Will you help me or not?!" I snap.

"What disease has she got?" Apollo frowns. "It depends on what she has because there ARE some cases that are out of my control."

I shrug. "Why in the hell would I come to you if I knew?"

His eyebrows raise. "Because you are a war god who cannot heal worth a damn."

"Fair point." I mutter. "But no. I do not know what she has."

"Then go ask Asclepius, he will be more qualified. And maybe he can stand your temper."

"I can't help that I have that gene from Mom." I lick my lips—an odd nervous habit. "Erm, Hera."

"You can't keep hiding like you do."

"I know I can't. But I certainly want to."