tw: BIG angst warning. violence/gore. blood mention. character death.
i didn't know whether or not to put a tw in the title, but i did just in case.
big apologies in advance, because this one's a tearjerker.
words: 1827
. . .
Travis was going to die.
He knew it from the moment he stepped onto the battlefield. Rows of demigods fell to the ground; they collapsed by the dozens. The Apollo kids had their hands so full that they were undoubtedly missing some of the fallen, but there was absolutely no way to save them all.
Travis was one of the unlucky ones to have been overlooked for the time being.
He lay propped up behind a dumpster in an alleyway, watching as treacherous demigods and monsters stormed the brigades from camp. He was helpless, sitting with his back against the brick wall and head growing dizzier by the second. He was hopeless, with a gaping wound he hadn't the stomach to look at yet, but he did feel the blood pooling around him.
He was going to die.
The pain had ebbed slightly due to it being so intense and so sudden that it went numb. He couldn't feel anything past his chest, especially not where he'd been stabbed in his left side. Vaguely aware of how urgent it was to get up and move before someone bad found him, Travis had attempted to stand many times, each one a failure.
Blood trickled down his temple from the cut on his forehead, and though it wasn't fatal, it was an annoyance nonetheless. An annoyance, an inconvenience, another roadway for his blood to leave his body. It entered his eyes when he tilted his head, burning and itching. He couldn't do this.
He could basically see the gates of the Underworld ahead of him.
Travis knew he would die. There was no way of going around it - he'd spent enough painful minutes in the alleyway to figure it out and accept it. Even if the Apollo kids found him, they'd only be carrying him away in search of a shroud. No amount drinking of ambrosia, no stitching up, no number of seconds passing in hiding would stop it. He knew it.
He would die today.
For the most part, Travis was at peace as he watched his fellow fighters win their own personal battles before moving on with the next, and he pondered how well Connor would cope. He knew his brother was very capable of leading the Hermes cabin by himself, but how would his emotional side handle things? And even if Connor took it well...
Katie.
Though he hadn't seen his supposed enemy the entire time he'd been fighting, his mind wouldn't get off of her. With every slash of his sword, he wondered if she was okay. With every dodge of an attack, he hoped she was safe. With every step he took, he prayed to the gods that she'd survive this.
Why? Because he loved her.
He'd never made that clear. Every day that passed had him bottling down his emotions a little further, never admitting them to anyone but himself. He was so deeply in love with the daughter of Demeter that he could hardly contain it when he saw her.
Even now, as he bled out and slowed his breaths, his thoughts dwelt only on her. He'd never told her. In that moment, there was nothing he was more sure of, nothing he was more desperate to do. He wouldn't have been at peace until she knew.
He knew Katie was at the Empire State Building, helping with the sickbeds. She had volunteered right in front of him, and he had to hope she was still there.
With scattered brainwaves, he connected the dots that there was a car right outside his alley. A woman rested with her head against the wheel, out cold like the rest of the mortals.
Her phone.
The woman's cell was on the dash of her car, and with the window broken open, he could've easily reached through and grabbed it.
This time, when Travis stood, he didn't crash back down. He slumped against the wall and hissed in pain as the brick scraped at his hands, but he held himself up and inched his foot forward. His stab wound throbbed with such fierce pangs that he shook from head to toe. But, he had to get to that phone.
His vision blurred with pain as he took another excruciating step towards the mouth of the alley, knowing full well that he may not have even been able to get there before he keeled over. Just ten more steps, tops, and he'd be there.
Katie had to know.
The blood drained from his side down his body, and the leg of his shorts became drenched. Every move he made he created more blood flow. Biting his lip so hard he was sure he busted it, Travis staggered another few steps before slipping in the dark liquid and falling flat on his face.
The world spun around him as he looked up, so close to the front wheel of the car that he could've touched it. So close.
The sharpness in his side felt like someone was pulling at all his arteries, and punching him a few times in the process. But he had to tell Katie.
He had never loved her more than in that second.
The footboard was within reach, and Travis pushed through the swell of pain to grab it and pull himself towards the car door. He had to do this, and if these words were the last breath he uttered, then so be it. He had to tell her. She had to know.
He loved her.
Reaching the car door proved to be a much simpler task than the one before him - climbing back to stand up and get to the phone.
But he had to.
With legs wobbling and arms quivering, he tugged at the locked door handle to try and carry himself up the side of the car. Unsuccessful. He attempted to swing his leg under himself to push up, but he could hardly inch his left thigh out to take him from the position he was currently in.
Scrambling to hype himself up was a challenge, considering the only thing he had going for him was that a monster hadn't found him yet, and his nose wasn't broken from when he fell on his face. But, looking past the feeling of his guts spilling out of him, he saw only one thing.
Katie.
She had to know.
A final burst of strength was found as Travis yanked himself up with the handle of the car door, and he swayed as he balanced himself on his feet. Luckily, he was still vaguely numb, even after moving around and aggravating the wound. The vertigo he experienced doubled as he leaned in over the broken window to retrieve the phone.
It slipped in his bloodied hands, but he was able to keep a grip on it and bring it out of the vehicle before sliding down its door again. He recoiled as his head swam, but he summoned all the brain power he had left to hack into the woman's phone.
Hermes must've been looking out for him, because the password ended up being 123456.
The last thing he had to do was look up the Empire's lobby number and call it.
Call her.
Tell her that he loved her.
With trembling hands, he wiped his fingers off on his shirt (that turned out to be just as bloody as his hands, so he resorted to using the gravelly road). He found Google, but his head involuntarily collapsed against the car with a thud.
A new shockwave rode through him, starting at the crown of his scalp to the injury that would ultimately kill him. He was no doctor, but he presumed he had a few minutes left.
Flinching as he tilted his head back up, he punched in what he was looking for, and luckily, the bars on her phone carried him to the number he so desperately needed.
He pressed it.
It rang.
Travis vaguely remembered pressing the button to put his call on speaker before he shrunk back and dropped the phone due to another wave of pain.
He had to do this one thing.
Then he'd be done.
"Hello...?" He barely recognized the voice to be an Apollo camper's, but he didn't know who exactly.
He didn't care.
"I need Katie," he croaked, spitting out a gob of blood onto the concrete as he tried again. "I... get me Katie."
"Katie?" the voice asked before repeating it louder. "Katie! Someone called for you."
He sighed as relief coursed his wrought veins. He could talk to her. He could tell her.
He was blacking out.
Stay with it, dude. You've come this far.
Tell her.
"...Yes?"
Katie.
He gasped out a breath and struggled to pick up the phone again to hold it closer to his face, as if that held her nearer, too. "Katie... Ka..."
"Who is this?"
"Katie-kat..."
On the other side of the line, he heard a sharp inhale. "Trav?"
"Heya, Kates." With failing gumption and spiraling vision, Travis managed a light chuckle. "What's up?"
"Travis, are you okay?" Her worried tone hardly clicked in his head. Her words all ran together like they were molasses.
He shook his head, but choked out another sentence. "Just... making sure you're okay."
"I'm safe, but... you don't sound okay."
"I need you to know something."
He knew he sounded slurred and clambering, but he had to force his next words out if it killed him.
He would die anyway, so he may as well have died trying at this.
"Travis, where are you? I'm sending someone to get you."
Again, he shook his head. Shreds of wistfulness overtook him - he wanted to have more words with her. He wanted to spend forever talking to her.
But that wouldn't happen.
He didn't have forever.
"You gotta know... I didn't," he gathered a shaky breath, "I don't hate you. At all."
Her silence conveyed obvious confusion and concern, but he had to continue. Travis didn't know how much longer he could take talking, but he wanted to spend every last second with her on the line.
"I love you, Katie-kat."
He loved her.
"Travis?" The pitch in her voice changed as she let out a small sob, and he wanted more than anything to make it better.
"I loved you."
He loved her.
Darkness closed in around his peripheral, but he felt like a million pounds had been lifted off of him. It could've been his declaration or the blood loss, but he was sure he'd never felt lighter.
He loved her.
The sun beat down on the son of Hermes as he completed his last action - pressing the "end call" button. He knew in his heart that the demigods would win. They had to. Katie would be safe, Katie would live her life after this.
He loved her.
And now, he only loved her from afar.