Apollo may be terrified of death, he's said as such, but he is not terrified of his own death. He had long come to accept that one day he might die, after all death is a risk of living, but what he had not come to accept is deaths of those he loved.

It was a silly thing really. If he could die, of course others could, of course everyone could. But seeing death is a lot different from experiencing it, he knew as much.

Apollo had never felt the oncoming, looming threat of death, but he had seen his fair share of it, he had even cursed it upon others. He knew what watching people die felt like, and he will admit that it feels different each time, depending on the person. For those he gives plague to, he doesn't care; it's a page of his life he'll never revisit. For those he kills, like Python, he might dare say he's happy when they die. Python was a menace, destroying the lives of the people of Delphi, it was a blessing to see him go.

But for those whom he loved, that was different. It was an ache in his chest that he couldn't shake, it was a headache he couldn't loose, it was the eternal nothingness he always felt. It was something that was a lot more difficult to move on from, if one ever could.

Hyacinthus was his first love. He was the first love that Apollo would've given up everything for, and he was the first love of his many that died in his arms, through no one's fault but his own. Hyacinthus was the first to suffer for his ignorance, for his naivety- and Hyacinthus' body was the body to which he promised to never be so ignorant and naive again. Hyacinthus' death was the first death he wept for.

And for some reason, he always had the habit of repeating himself. Maybe it was the immortality that made it easy. Easy to repeat mistakes and never rectify their causes.

He wanted to help Icarus, he really did. Every fibre of his being wanted to help Icarus in any way he could, but he had also wanted to help Hyacinthus and Daphne- And look where that got them. If he could just help Icarus escape Minos, if he could just whisk him away like his heart wanted to, with no consequences, then he would. But there are always consequences, always. A millennia of internal suffering had taught him that much.

Apollo felt his limbs twitch every time he saw Icarus stand on the window ledge with those wretched wings tied to his arms. Every time he made the smallest movement, Apollo wanted to launch himself forward and stop Icarus from falling. He wanted to take Icarus in his arms, place him back on the window ledge and reprimand him for being such an idiot. For thinking that this had any hope of working.

There was always a different way. Always, he matter what Daedalus claimed. He'd much rather take the chance and steal a boat from Crete's port, than fly across the sky in makeshift wings that could oh so easily go wrong.

"That makes you uncomfortable, doesn't it?" Hermes grinned, as he rested his arm on Apollo's shoulder and pointed his spindly finger at Icarus, who was flexing his arms up and down. "Watching him with the inability to help should something go wrong. It's not a nice feeling, is it?"

Apollo pushed Hermes' arm off of his shoulder with a disgruntled look on his face. "This isn't funny Hermes, go find something or someone else to laugh at."

"Hey." He held his arms up in defence. "I'm not laughing. I was just indiscreetly making the point that you're uncomfortable and that humours me greatly."

Apollo frowned.

"Are you still angry I stole your special little cows that one time? You have to get over that. Seriously."

"I'm not still angry that you stole my cows." Apollo insisted. "I'm angry at you for being a little wench. You love to irritate me for no reason, and this time I don't find it funny."

Hermes rolled his eyes and looked to Icarus, who was now standing on the window ledge with his arms spread wide and toes curled over the end. He was looking back inside, listening likely to Daedalus' instruction because despite what Apollo appears to believe, he doesn't actually want his son to die.

"You've got to calm down and relax." Hermes grinned mischievously. "What the fates have planned will happen, regardless of what you want, so there's no point in worrying so much. The aura of death around him is weak, if he's going to die it's not going to be soon."

Apollo turned his nose up at the fact. "How do you know what the aura of death feels like?"

"You know I do favours for Hades from time to time, I've learned to know what it feels like. It's heavy, cold, completely unnoticeable to mortals." Hermes explained looking more grave than he had before. "Every mortal has an aura of death, because every mortal is destined to die; death is the only certainty they have in life. I can't tell you much because I'm no god of death, but whilst Icarus' aura is heavier than normal, it doesn't necessarily mean he's going to die imminently. It's creeping up on him for sure, and I can confidently tell you he's going to die before twenty, but that's a fact you should get used to. Death creeps up on every mortal."

"I can't get used to it." Apollo shook his head, his voice turning meek. "I can't get used to a fact that I'll never know myself."

Hermes shrugged and turned to leave. "I can't recommend you try to experience it for yourself, because no matter your standing with Hades you will stay dead." He jumped into a nearby tree branch. "You should've fallen in love with Aphrodite like the rest of us."

Apollo frowned.

Icarus didn't fall to his death, much to Apollo's elation, and so he went to visit Icarus that evening, once the sun had set, with Hermes' words still rattling around in his mind.

What the fates have planned will happen, regardless of what you want

Technically, he was right. The fates had every mortal life, both human and not, woven like tapestries before them, and only they can decide when life'll end. Despite that fact, Apollo still hated it. He hated that there was nothing he could do to stop the oncoming wave of time.

Even though he was a god, he was not all-powerful. That fact ate away at him every day.

"Something's on your mind." Icarus said, sitting himself down next to Apollo and casually lacing his hand through his. "I can tell. You have certain look on your face."

"I do have something on my mind." Apollo replied. He squeezed Icarus' hand. "Did you test your father's wings today? Did you fly?"

Icarus shook his head, unaware that Apollo already knew the answer. "Father said it was too windy. It wouldn't be safe."

"It isn't safe regardless." He scoffed. "And besides, don't you need wind to fly?"

Apollo didn't like to think about the wind, he didn't have very good memories of it. It had been Zephyros, god of the west wind, who had taken Hyacinthus from him out of jealously; who's to say he won't take Icarus out of spite?

"I do, but father says there was too much wind, they would be too difficult to control, but he hopes to be able to use them tomorrow. If we can make use of them soon, we should be able to leave before then end of the month." Icarus smiled, swinging his legs back and forth excitedly.

Apollo smiled back, but inside his heart wasn't smiling.

It's creeping up on him for sure, and I can confidently tell you he's going to die before twenty, but that's a fact you should get used to. Death creeps up on every mortal.

Apollo knew that fact all too well.

He hated to admit it, but Hermes has a way with words like no other. He could weave words like a weaver could weave a tapestry- beautifully, slowly, meaningfully. He never said anything he didn't mean, and in moments like this, Apollo hated that.

"I hope all goes well for you." Apollo said, his heart clearly not in his words. "I hope you succeed."

Icarus frowned and ran his thumb across Apollo's deeply furrowed eyebrows. "You haven't told me what's on your mind. I want you to."

"I don't think that this is a good idea." He explained. "You and your father flying away, I mean, but you already knew that. I'm scared for you, I wish there was something more I could do to help."

"Apollo, there's no other way."

"I wish there was. I really wish there was. If I could, I would whisk you and your father and your mother away to some place safe- I hear Zakynthos is particularly nice this time of year- but if I help you, if I make our relationship obvious to everyone, you and your family will become a target to those who want to hurt me. I don't want you to suffer because of me."

Icarus drew Apollo closer and looked him deeply in the eye. His gaze didn't waver as his hands cupped Apollo's face and wiped the single tear away. "It's fine." He said softly. "I'll take what comes to me, good or bad, because what more can I do? It's out of your hands, I know that. I accept that."

Apollo swallowed loudly. "I know you do, but I don't."

They hadn't heard the quiet descent of footsteps from the workshop above, because they react to Daedalus' presence behind them until they heard him say:

"Icarus?"