live and let die

The son of Letus' hand moved behind his back and he started to walk back and forth a little back. He moved with a kind of precision of someone who had every single step he would take planned out. Oliver had never planned anything in his life. The body moved with steps, and frankly a pristine posture, that Oliver didn't possess.

He was looking at Skye, taking in what she had said. On his face was a mixture of confusion and also certainty, as if he knew exactly what was going on, but it wasn't what he had been expecting. So, he took a couple steps closer to Skye with that same confidence. He knew what every step of this was.

"You know I thought you'd have it figured out by now, after all, you have all the pieces you need. How about I give you a little push in the right direction?" The dark haired boy's lips moved but it wasn't his voice. It was still oddly British, and very careful. He put his index finger lightly on the side of Skye's temple and then traced the side of her skull to put a strand of hair behind her ear. Then, he took a step back.

"You won't be as successful with Oliver, though." He said, his voice with a hint of a threat.

"I am." Letus' voice said, with deep certainty and as a conclusion. He took a few more steps back from Skye, and she could watch as the red in the eyes faded and were hazel once more. Oliver's skin was dead pale and he looked hollow, even with his eyes back.

During that time, all Oliver could feel was motion. His inner ear was telling him when his body was standing up, moving around, and stopping. He felt as his arms moved behind his back and then his right arm moved up and then back down. He couldn't hear anything or see anything. All he wanted was to scream. He wanted to let every single person at that party know that something was wrong. He was worried about Skye. The son of Letus didn't know what demon could be possessing him, but Skye was right in harms way.

Suddenly, Oliver was overwhelmed with light. Skye was standing in front of him like a statue. Everything was overwhelming and he could feel that he wasn't, and couldn't breathe. He could feel his heart rate slowing down. Something was very, very wrong. Oliver managed to force out only one word.

"Help."

And immediately, Oliver's long, lanky body went limp and collapsed to the ground, falling unnaturally in front of the couch and his skin was ice cold.

Lachlan and Delilah push the doors open to the hallway. They're still laughing, visions of ceramic frogs and elephants in their heads, and there is no urgency to get where they are going. Lachlan's head turns to the right and suddenly all the happiness is gone. He watches as his best friend collapses to the ground like a rag doll. Lachlan takes off, his hand breaking from Delilah's. His feet fall out from under him and his knees hit the ground a few feet behind Skye. He instantly pushes himself up and stumbles the rest of the way until he is above Oliver's head.

Lachlan drops to his knees. He is already crying. He can hear his girlfriend screaming, but he can't make out anything she is saying over the ringing in his ears. Lachlan presses both of his hands to the sides of Oliver's neck, looking for any remnant of a pulse, but he is ice cold. His eyes are closed and everything was gone. Lachlan knows there were only 3 people in the hallway in that moment. The son of Fama, completely obliterated, looks up at the girls.

"He's dead." For those two words, his voice is calm, but suddenly all of the rage washes over him. He rips the tie off of his neck and chucks it at the wall. "Fuck every fucking god out there. I'm done." Lachlan screams,  but not loud enough to be heard over the blaring party music inside. He collapses, his head falling into his knees, as he weeps angrily.

It had been a time filled with giggles as her and Lachlan exchanged funny lines about ceramic frogs and elephants and their family together protecting Lachlan's guest house. The conversation would be them talking about the ridiculousness of what their childhood was as they made their way towards the doors that led to the hall and the bathrooms. Delilah couldn't help but laugh and feel every ounce of alcohol she had consumed wanted to sway and dance tot he beat of the music.

The two of them opened the doors and instantly Delilah was stuck in her spot in the hall way as she watched Oliver collapse. She still didn't move, she could see Skye screaming and she could see Lachlan react. The whole thing just made her more and more stunned and locked in place. What was even happening, she couldn't process anything, she just kept hearing 'he's dead' and Delilah refuses to believe it, she slowly walks over to the group of them and she kneels down next to Oliver with the tears streaking down her face and she doesn't know what to say or what to do, she just wanted to fix it, she wants to do something.

The legacy of Cupid feels useless, but her hand laces her fingers with his like they had done before. This time it's different, his fingers don't hold her hand back and the pulse is gone and faded. Her chest was heavy, her stomach was in knots, and her throat was tight feeling as if it were closing. Her body shook with sobs as she held brought her other hand over his hand. Her eyes close as she keeps mumbling words and trying to heal him. Logically she knows it will do nothing, but yet she tries.

Delilah is relentless, she has a strong hold on his hand, she's putting in as much energy as possible. The brown eyed girl is trying, but nothing is happening, "No, no, no, no, no, no." She keeps repeating over and over again quietly.

"This can't be happening. I need you to come back to me." Delilah starts just rattling off the words that come to mind. Oliver is dead, that is fact. The last time she had seen him was when he clutched her hand and said 'Bathroom'. That couldn't be it, why kind of sick world was this? What kind of game did the gods want to play. "Just take me instead, don't let him go he doesn't deserve this. Please."