#no beta we die kike uhhhhh everhbody.

[vomitingink]

tw characted death and just uhhhhhhgeneralkt sad stuff...to make gou cry

here's an epic fic based on tbe song stay alive reprise i hope nothing bad happens ib it

telemachus had never been anything short of adventurous. even as a young child, he found entertainment in finding new cracks and creviced in the palace, or little spaces behind walls and trees outside he could squeeze into to avoid having to do something.

when odysseus returned, the boy was a man — and a fine one, at twenty years old — and his adventuring spirit hadn't diluted in the slightest.

( maybe that was why. if odysseus could convince himself that was the reason, then it would be fine. )

even though the suitors's kin had agreed not to declare war on Ithaca , it meant nothing when it came to word of mouth ; they took every opportunity possible yo badmouth and degrade Ithaca and it's King.

odysseus, having fought 10 years in a war against Troy and 10 more in a war against practically every force of nature out there, had learned not to ride to every occasional threat and provocation.

telemachus, who had been mostly inside the palace, itching for sone sort of exciting quest or heroes journey to call him, had not.

"father." odysseus heard the anger before he saw it reflected in his son's stiff posture, as he turned with a frown from where he was conversing with one of the older ithacans.

"telemachus." he nodded, frowning at the tight scowl on the man's face. "what's happened? why do you look so irate?"

"you haven't heard—no, it isn't that. you haven't been listening to what they say about you." the words come out as a snarl, and odysseus watches telemachus's hand go to the hilt of his sword with a frown of his own.

he had never, never intended for the young boy to grow into a violent man, but he supposed the circumstances weren't very much in his favour about that, either, with diomedes training him, and what was likely years of pent-up aggression from the suitors curled up inside of him like a snake.

"there is a man — eurymachus's brother. he and i are going to fight, later today." telemachus's tone holds an odd air of authority, and the look in his eyes practically dares his father to try and challenge him, to oppose him and deny him this fight for honor.

odysseus does not argue with the boy. he knows telemachus has all of his mother's stubbornness and all of his own determination, and both of their shared wit. he knows that trying to argue telemachus down will result in another familiar argument about how telemachus is an adult and he can make his own decisions and odysseus hasn't been there anyway so he didn't deserve a say.

( their relationship, had been rocky. sure, telemachus had been the first person odysseus revealed himself to. and yes, they had slaughtered the suitors together. but odysseus did not know how to be a father, and it showed in his overbearing manner, in the way he ended up suffocating his son with rules. )

( but on the other end, telemachus struggled as well. he didn't know how to act around his father, only used to the gentle words and soothing touches of his mother, not knowing how to deal with the sudden presence of a man that wasn't leering at him and his mother, calling her names and taunting him for not knowing how to throw a punch. not knowing how to deal with this man who had left so long ago, and had suddenly shown back up looking like tartarus had swallowed him up and spit him back out.)

telemachus steps back, seeming satisfied with odysseus's non-answer, and turns yo leave , when the other calls out.

"my boy." the words come out of him in one exhale, as if he were rushing to get them out. rushing to stop the other, to convince him to listen. "aim to disarm your opponent. if you can knock the sword from his hand and get him on the ground that way, you will need to shed no blood. "

telemachus meets his eyes, and odysseus is surprised to see no defiance in them, only a hint of uneasy fear, swallowed up quickly by the determination in his gaze.

"alright."

when telemachus goes to leave this time, odysseus does not stop him, despite the growing feeling that suggests to him that something is horribly wrong.

right through the neck.

the arrow had went right through the neck.

because of course , the suitors had a sick sense of humor so why wouldn't their kin? because why wouldn't the fight go wrong in too many ways?

( odysseus tries not to look at his son, still alive, gasping and gurgling like antinous had been. tries to fight the nausea that rises in his throat and fails, throwing up in the closest medical bin.

his son. his baby. )

the fight had been rigged from the start. when telemachus succeeded in disarming eurymachus's brother, another had perched himself in a tree and let loose an arrow, purposely catching the boy in the throat — a mimicry of how odysseus had killed antinous.

( telemachus is still breathing. still alive. still able to hear odysseus's repeated apologies, still able to hear odysseus pleading for him to live. )

they lay him on the bed, and it becomes stained quickly with the prince's blood. odysseus wants to look away, but he can't bring himself to.

( telemachus coughs, and it sends dull red splattering across his tab chiton. odysseus does close his eyes, then, for a moment, only to open them to see telemachus watching him quietly. )

"father." he chokes out, and the next inhale is wet with budding tears as well as blood. "i did exactly as you said…—i disarmed him, first."

odysseus shushes him, tells him to save his strength, murmurs that he knows and he's proud because gods he needs his son to know that. he wants to be able to tell telemachus a million timed how proud he is, how he knows he isn't the best father but he's still proud of telemachus just for being a good son.

"e-even before..he could get up, i could see him smiling —..i shouldve known, huh?" telemachus laughs, and then coughs, and sucks in a rattling breath to the best of his ability, eyes shutting for a second too long before he opens then again to see his father's panicked expression.

odysseus feels wetness on his cheeks , as he clutches his son's hand—still warm, still warm, still warm—and whispers for him to save his strength and stay alive-

an anguished cry sounds from the doorway, and odysseus flinches, squeezing his son's hand tighter.

"no..no! no!" penelope presses a calloused hand to her throat, as if she's the one injured, wide eyes already spilling over with tears as she stumbles over to the bed, kneeling infront the boy and hovering her hands nervously over him, as if she's searching for a spell to heal him.

penelope is no god nor divine, no witch nor practitioner. she can do nothing but clutch the boy's body, anger creasing her face as she meets the doctor's eyes.

"tell me. tell me he's going to live — tell me he's going to survive this!" her bottom lip quivers, yet she refuses to let more tears fall, terror lacing her expression as she shifts her gaze to find guilt and the same pain mirrored in odysseus's face. "who did this? odysseus, did you know?!"

odysseus opens his mouth to reply—he doesn't know how. maybe with an apology, maybe with an explanation, a denial. but telemachus speaks first, and he snaps his mouth shut, unwilling to steal away any more of his son's time with his mother.

"mother. mater. " telemachus whispers, one hand shakily coming to rest in the woman's hair. "im sorry. you told me—you told me if i went out, i had to be home for dinner. i was..was late. i didn't mean to take so long."

penelope sobs, grabbing the boy's hand and holding it like a lifeline, pressing his pulse point against her cheek as if that will change the fact that it's slowing.

"i was never good at listening." telemachus cracks a smile, but it drops as he takes another rattling inhale, eyes fluttering shut. this time, odysseus shakes him back awake before he can open his eyes on his own, with shaking hands.

"no—don't go to sleep, boy. not yet. not until they fix you." he hisses, but telemachus smiles in a way that odysseus knows too well, has seen reflected in the faces of comrades in the war and out at sea alike.

"tell me…tell me about the sacking of Troy again. a-and about the boar. " telemachus murmurs, eyes half-lidded. "i always heard the second story from mother, but never from the source."

"of course." odysseus concedes in a hushed tone, sparing a glance at penelope on the other side of the bed, who now sits with her head pressed against the boy's chest.

clearing his throat, he starts to speak, omitting nothing. taking as long as possible to tell the stories, as if it'll prolong telemachus's lifespan.

( it doesn't. by the time he's halfway through telling the young man about the Horse, he isn't breathing.

the only sign of this is penelope's sharp gasp, and choked scream of grief. )

( odysseus doesn't fire another arrow in his life. )