Patroclus

"I can't!" Nico cries, tears dripping down his eyes to his swollen cheek. He thinks he was hungry before Bryce arrived, but now he only feels the throbbing in his side and the numbness in his legs. He struggles to his feet, placing a bloodied hand on the wall of cement to steady himself. He feels weak, more than he usually does. He wonders about the last time he ate and frowns when he can't remember.

"Try harder," Bryce growls, cracking the whip in his hand as he moved in front of Nico. "You do want me to stop, don't you?"

Nico grits his teeth, holding back a groan. He loses his footing and falls on his hands and knees. The floor is carved of stone. It is damp with sweat and blood and tears and the gods know what else. Kill me, Nico thinks. He is too cowardly to voice it, but it is the only thing that goes through his head. Bryce places a hand at the back of Nico's head and jerks him forward, pulling on his dirtied hair.

"You know I love doing this," Bryce drawls. "But we really don't have the time. The Phthians will attack us any day now, so I'm pretty sure His Highness Octavian would appreciate it if you could just get a move on."

"Please," Nico begs, not knowing what he's begging for. His mind is hazy and his vision is blurring. Bryce is laughing, the sound bouncing off the walls. Nico knows he's falling unconscious, so he closes his eyes and breathes a prayer of thanks to Hypnos for granting him at least a couple of minutes of rest. He wishes Hypnos would never let him wake up.

Hypnos doesn't grant his wish. When Nico regains consciousness, he is sprawled across the center of a stone plate in the palace's garden, surrounded by tall unadorned pillars. It is where Octavian performs his rituals, bathing the stones in the blood of animals.

"I see you are awake," Octavian walks up to the plate, his white robes billowing behind him. "Just in time for the ritual to summon your sister."

"Wh-what?" Nico's hands and feet are not bound, a first in years, but he is too weak to stand on his own. He leans his body against the nearest pillar and scans the garden. The place is empty, save for Bryce, who is standing to the far back. It is unusual, as Octavian normally has an audience to watch him perform his 'miracles.' "I… I don't understand."

Bryce hands Octavian a silver bowl. The priest dips his hand into the bowl and sprinkles some sort of powder-dust over the stones. They catch the moonlight, glinting red as blood. Nico watches, transfixed, as Octavian kneels and stabs his short sword into the ground.

"Infernus subter aperit!" Octavian exclaims, pulling his dagger away. There is a sound like a moan, a rumbling great and deep as if it were coming from under the ground. Then the Earth splits open, as if being ripped open by invisible hands. "I have done it! Now I'm going to exchange this useless brat for his sister!"

"An e-exchange?"

"Yes, di Angelo, an exchange. Your soul for hers!"

"You can't do this!" Nico watches as skeletons claw their way above surface, rattling bones and the stench of the Underworld. He hears some strange sort of noise in his ears, a cacophony of whispers, the dead trying to communicate with him. Shut up, he thinks, don't talk to me.

The skeletons are shambling towards Nico now, a mass of uncoordinated bodies, pale like the moonlight they are all bathed in. Nico looks at Octavian and sees the crazy glint in the priest's eyes. He knows what Octavian is planning. Octavian will resurrect Bianca with Nico's life and turn her into his pawn once more, a killing machine without a will of her own. Nico will not let him. Bianca finally has what she deserves: the chance to be reborn.

"I won't let you," Nico grits his teeth.

"You won't let me? You?" Octavian clutches his stomach and guffaws. It is an unpleasant sound. "You're not like your sister. You don't have anything."

There is that weird murmuring in his head again. Nico concentrates on the sound. The skeletons seem to halt in their movements, and all at once Nico feels their pain. What do you want? He feels their anguish, their hurt, their hatred. Bianca could control the dead, but he isn't like her. I don't have anything. He can't control them, but they are reaching out to him, communicating with their emotions.

"I'll stop you," Nico himself is surprised by his conviction, but he knows he will do this. He will protect Bianca from this monster even if it costs him his life. He turns to the undead bodies, channelling all of their grief, their hatred, their emotions into himself. Help me, he pleads. He catches a brief glimpse into their lives, the moment of their demise. They are soldiers, fallen at the hands of Octavian's, their deaths brutal and meaningless. Don't we want the same thing?

"Stop me? Stop me?" Octavian is doubling over, manic glee distorting the features of his face. "You and what army?"

Nico places a hand on his chest, over his heart. He's taking into himself the pain of a whole army and he feels as if he is about to break. It hurts. He can't control the undead like Bianca, but he can bend them to his will, feel what they are feeling, think what they are thinking. He doesn't know yet how dangerous it is for one of the living to empathise with the dead.

"Me and your army," Nico pushes away from the pillar and stands on his own two feet. In front of him, the undead turn around, making their way to Octavian.

"What's happening?" Octavian watches as the skeletons come closer and closer. He backs away, step after step, until he stumbles over a rock and falls on his behind. The skeletons advance on him. "Get over here, Bryce!"

Bryce does and immediately he is swallowed by the mass of bones, torn into shreds of flesh and devoured. What is left of him, the skeletons push into the crack in the ground. Nico feels the urge to smile and laugh, and it frightens him. This isn't like me.

"Desine!" Octavian pulls out his dagger. "I command you, stop!"

Nico thinks it's foolish for a legacy of the god of light to try and control the forces of the dark. Nico takes a step forward, and his foot passes through the stones. He gasps, frightened. Calm down, he commands himself, this is nothing.

BOOM!

The flash of an explosion and the sky lights up like it is day. Nico is startled by the deafening sound. He crumples to the floor, covering his ears, his eyes shut tight. For a minute, he can't hear or see anything. Then, his chest tightens. When he looks up, the skeletal army is disintegrating, a mass of clattering bones and white dust. The ground is sewing itself back together, groaning and moaning.

Nico hears the pounding of feet, the sound of a coming army. He thinks it might be Octavian's soldiers, but Octavian's face is still ashen. Nico hears shouting now, the deep bellow of a commander gathering his forces. He remembers the words of Bryce: The Phthians will attack us any day now… Nico gets to his feet; this is his chance to escape!

"'Ey, where you goin'?" An unfamiliar voice calls out and Nico turns around.

He sees a man… with goat legs.

Octavian looks back and forth between the satyr and Nico, and makes a mad dash back to the palace. Nico curses.

"'Ey get back here!" The satyr shouts after Octavian. He grumbles to himself and points to the towering trees surrounding the stone garden. "Secure the place, will ya?"

To Nico's further astonishment, the trees uproot themselves, thick roots bursting from the confines of the soil and move.

"You're Nico di Angelo, right?" The satyr asks.

"W-what's it to you?" Nico feels himself growing weak again, the strength lent by the dead leaving his body.

"I'm Grover Underwood. I was sent here by the throne of Phthia to rescue you."

"Rescue?" Nico racks his head for something, anything, to help him escape. The word rescue has lost its meaning to him years ago. "There's nothing you could possibly want from me."

"You're wrong." Grover is walking towards him now.

Suddenly Nico understands why Octavian flat out dashed earlier. Something about the satyr radiates pure panic. Nico stands his ground, calming himself. He is a child of darkness and fear. He isn't going to give in.

"The king of Phthia ordered this rescue," Grover pauses, gauging the other. "He has agreed his son the prince will care for you."

"The prince?" Nico's voice is quiet.

For some reason, he suddenly remembers the salty smell of the ocean. He remembers drowning in the waves. He remembers a hand breaking the surface of the water, reaching for his own. He struggles to remember who owns that hand, and he does.

["Are you alright?" There is a boy, staring down at Nico like he's the most important thing in the world, and although Nico is lying on sand, his hair sopping wet, his lungs filled with water, he thinks he'll be okay. "My name is – "]

"Percy Jackson."

Patroclus

Fangirl-ing/ Fanboy-ing and criticisms are very welcome!

10/29/14