Savior

Percy sprinted to reach Annabeth in time—he ran faster than he'd ever ran before, his legs digging deep into the loose ground. But he knew he was going to be too late—too late to save her, too late to prevent Polybotes from taking his only happiness away from him, taking everything away from him.

Polybotes raised his arm, his trident poised to strike. He grinned cruelly at Percy's futile attempts to reach Annabeth, and his arm began its deadly downward arc.

Percy was still twenty yards away, and he knew he'd never reach her in time, but he was still trying, still sprinting, because he couldn't bear her death. He wouldn't survive living without her.

And then, suddenly, someone is there—a dark, shadowy silhouette slips protectively in front of Annabeth just as the trident struck—piercing straight through the shadowy demigod's chest.

He hung in the air, held there by Polybotes' trident, and Polybotes scowled in annoyance before shoving his body off of the end of his weapon and preparing to strike again.

A rush of anger burned through Percy's veins, and he let out a raw-throated yell. Water erupted around him and, at his command, twisted itself around Polybotes, keeping an invisible barrier between the giant's skin so that he couldn't turn it to poison and save himself.

"You shouldn't have done that, Polybotes." Percy snarled. "My enemies should have learned by now—never threaten the people I love."

He stabbed his sword through the giant's chest, and he roared in pain and rage before a green strike of light sent him crumbling to dust.

Percy turned just in time to see Annabeth's savior crumpling to the ground, a large pool of blood spreading beneath him, and the anger drained out of him immediately. He stumbled over, dropping his sword, and fell heavily to his knees beside Nico, breathing hard.

"No." He whispered, his voice cracking, as he beheld his cousin's bloody, beaten, bruised body.

"Nico," he started to say, but the son of Hades wouldn't let him finish.

"Percy." He croaked. "I'm sorry."

Percy's brow furrowed in confusion above his tear-filled eyes. "What do you have to be sorry for?"

Nico reached out his hand and grabbed Percy's wrist. "Everything. We could have been friends. But I...I couldn't let go of my grudge. I hated you, and that cost us...everything."

His voice starts to get quieter, and is no more than a breath when he speaks the last word.

"Nico, no, you can't!" Percy shouted in despair, his hands hovering in the air as he tried to do anything, everything, that could help.

"Percy." Nico started, then coughed hard. Blood stained his lips. "Percy, there's nothing you can do."

Percy sat back on his heels. A single tear traced its way down his cheek.

"Tell Hazel...goodbye for me...okay? And...tell her...that I love her." Nico whispered, his breathing growing even more labored.

Percy nodded desperately, trying to do something right by Nico for once. "I will, Nico, I promise."

Nico smiled one last time, and looked into Percy's eyes, and a feeling of peace traveled between them-the feeling of a grudge finally being layed to rest.

Then Nico's fingers relaxed and loosened their grip, and the light fled from his eyes. A last puff of breath escaped from his lips...and then the son of Hades was gone forever.

Percy sat there and let himself cry, until Annabeth came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Percy," she said softly, gently, "it's time to let him go."

And she slowly helped him up and led him away from Nico's body. Percy's eyes were frozen wide in shock, and his face was pale.

"I can't believe he's gone." He whispered. Then, bitterly, "It was my fault.

"No, Percy, you can't think that. There was nothing you could have done." Annabeth hurried to reassure him.

"I should have been there." Percy croaked, and his voice broke on the last word. "It should have been me."

Annabeth didn't say anything—maybe because she knew she couldn't convince him otherwise—and instead gently guided him back to their friends.

That night, they burned his shroud—black silk that wavered with silver gray tones, with a skull and cross bones and a green trident embroidered in the center.

"Percy," Annabeth whispered to him. "It wasn't your fault."

But Percy knew better. It was his fault—Nico was dead, and he might as well have struck the final blow himself.