Those who were taken...
They never came back, dragged beneath the waves never to return.
Their haunting screams were a symbol of their horrific deaths.
Like shadows they lay in wait, the deep blue waters hiding them from view.
With sharp claws they...
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~•~
"Calliope?"
Cally is too overwhelmed to fully process that this is the first time he has spoken her full name. Fear, apprehension, relief, and exhaustion are all present in her current state. She watches Atlas warily as he sways on his feet. Blood covers him completely, making him more horrific looking than she has ever seen but also more heroic.
She can't imagine what her fate would have been had he not saved her, and not only did he stop him, but put an end to him completely. Cally shivers as she eyes the dead body only a few yards away. Part of her feels sorry for his death, but the majority is glad of it. She wouldn't wish death on anyone, but he would have killed her had Atlas not done what he did.
"Don't look," Atlas commands, seeing her face pale the longer she gazes at the corpse. He steps towards her yet she backs away instantly. He frowns, confusion lacing his tone. "What's wrong?"
"I..." she clutches her torn shirt around herself tighter, hands trembling as her lip wobbles. "What you said..."
"...Is what I had to," he finishes. "You are mine in that you are my responsibility. Nothing more."
Cally slumps down against the rock behind her, a weight she wasn't aware of lifting from her chest. She nods slowly as tears trail down her cheeks. With that thought now out of her mind, everything else she feels has room to come forward.
Atlas watches her crumble into a ball of tears in the sand. She is still wearing the cotton pants but her shirt is torn and wrapped around her haphazardly. Blood is smeared all down her front, cuts and scrapes still bleeding. He kneels before her, eyes and countenance made as soft as he can manage.
"He hurt you," he observes. He gulps, not wanting to push her to recount what happened any more than she needs to, but also needing to be sure. "Where?"
She raises her gaze to his slowly, his image made blurry by her tears. She shakes her head, ducking her chin back down to her chest. She does not wish to answer, so she hopes he will drop the question. He does not, however, and she curles herself tighter at the sound of his voice.
"Cally, you need to tell me. Did I get here in time?" He asks. She looks up at him in confusion, not understanding his exact meaning. "You know what I mean," he answers.
Oh.
"N-no I..." a sniffle. "I'm okay."
Atlas releases a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. His body aches in protest as he reaches a hand towards her. She only stares at his open hand for many moments, before slowly sliding her hand into his. His grip is warm and gentle, fingers wrapping delicately around her own.
