Title: Night Comes Down

Rating: T

Warnings: A bit of language, Character death, eventual suggestiveness, vague spoilers for later episodes if you haven't seem them. Let's just get all our bases covered.

Disclaimer: Class of the Titans is the intellectual property of Studio B.

Summary: The prophecy is broken and Chronus rules the world with an iron fist. Six surviving teenagers struggle to stay alive in the apocalyptic world, searching for a way to bring their fallen comrade back to life and restore order. But Chronus has the upper hand, their precious technology is long destroyed, and the leader blames himself. Nobody counted on their fellow warrior being unwilling to return either. Is the Earth finished, or is there still hope?

Chapter Eight: Beyond the Realms of Death

The heroes were still sniffling and wiping tears from their eyes as they drew up on the other side of the river. Charon seemed grateful to let them out, and a fresh round of hugging ensued as they climbed on shore.

Only Odie refrained from joining in the small celebration, a thoughtful look spreading across his face. Noticing his discomfort, Jay broke free of the group. "What's the matter?"

"I think we have a problem. Atlanta's body is banged up pretty badly, and she'll be back in it once we leave the Underworld." He noted. "We're going to have to get her medical attention straight away, or else we'll have gone through all of this for nothing."

"Cronus will be after us too." The leader added, wrinkling his forehead in worry. "He won't want us to save Atlanta."

"Maybe we could maneuver a distraction?" By this point, the rest of the team had come over to see what the fuss was about. "Some of us can go get her from the hiding spot. The rest will stay here and keep a lookout, not to mention making sure that Atlanta only returns to her body after you're en-route to a hospital." Theresa suggested.

Jay nodded slowly. "Yes. I think so."

"We can stay in touch via PMR. Leave yours with us, and I think Atlanta should still have hers in her pocket."

As Jay handed over the communicator to Odie, he turned to Herry. "You can be in charge of the distraction team."

The descendant of Hercules nodded with some mild surprise, casting a curious eye on Theresa. Archie put his foot down. "I'm going with you Jay."

"So am I." Neil added.

Surprisingly, Jay didn't argue that, gesturing to his two teammates to follow him out of the Underworld without a second glance behind him. Neil and Archie waved and promised to get the job done before following him up.

As soon as Jay was out of earshot, Herry turned to his teammates, a look of utter bewilderment on his face. "How do we do this? Why would he put ME in charge?"

"Maybe he thinks you'll come up with some good fighting moves." Odie suggested. Theresa looked at her shoes.

"Well…" began Atlanta, "I guess Herry and Theresa should go outside. Somebody has to tell you guys when I'm done… so that can be Odie, right?

"I don't know about that." Herry grinned, clearly remembering his friend's shining moment. "I think Cronus might have more to fear from Odie than myself."

"I'll tell you all about it." The thinker promised in response to Atlanta's interested smile and raised eyebrow. "You two just figure out what you're going to do."

As Odie turned around to detail the thrilling rescue mission from start to finish, Herry shrugged. "I think we should just stick to the basics."

"You mean, go out there, make like we're trying to be all secretive, wander aimlessly until we find somewhere that might be a good fake hiding spot, act like it's the real thing, and then fight as long as we can?"

"Well that's the long version, yes."

"Let's do it!"

oOoOoOoO

"I still can't believe you actually kicked Cronus in the crotch! I wish I'd been there to see it!" Atlanta shook her head.

"Well next time y…" Just then, the PMR went off, cutting Odie off. He held up a finger and pressed it to his ear. "Hello?"

Jay's voice, breathless as though he was running pumped staccato at him over the speaker. "We're close to the Hospital now! And we've got her, but we ran into a snag. We've got some Harpies after us… Tell Atlanta to go! Then call the others and tell them to rendezvous as soon as possible!"

"Can do!"

He turned to Atlanta, who had clearly heard, and gave her a hug. "Good luck!"

She stepped forward from the mouth of the cave, shimmered briefly and disappeared. For an instant, the redhead felt strange, like she was floating in some strange dream where her body didn't exist.

And then, the sensation was gone, and there was darkness and so much movement and unbearable pain.

oOoOoOoO

The eyes of the lady in white bore into them over the face-mask that obscured her eyes and nose. "You're very lucky that you brought her here in time."

Jay's brow furrowed at the mention of 'luck', but he nodded gravely. "Can you stitch her up?" he asked.

"That's not a problem. I can zip that hole closed in about fifteen minutes flat. The problem is that she's lost a lot of blood, and she'll require a transfusion if she's to survive."

Archie practically dropped Atlanta in his enthusiasm to help the love of his life. "I'll do it, doc!" he volunteered, wrenching himself almost comically around in a miraculously successful effort of rolling up his sleeves to where a thin layer of muscle covered the major artery in the crook of his arm. His armful of hunter gave a weak grunt of restless indignation at being jostled.

The doctor placed a calming hand on his arm. "I appreciate your enthusiasm young man, but your friend will need blood of the type that matches hers. You can place her down here." She patted the clean metal counter with her free hand, while she reached for a vial brought by a nurse. Examining the label, she turned to the warrior. "Are you by chance B-positive?"

Archie's face fell. "A-positive." He groaned.

Jay shook his head as well. "I'm A-positive too, I think. Maybe Odie, Theresa or Herry. I can go get one of them. It'll only take a few minutes to find…"

"There isn't time for that. What about you?"

"Huh? Oh. I'm AB-Positive." Neil looked up from examining his reflection in the chrome, protesting immediately from reflexive shock when the doctor grabbed his arm.

"Perfect. AB-blood-type can work for either A or B."

"Heh! Neil to the rescue!" Neil pumped his fist in the air, but went green a second later, frantically gesturing to the violet-haired warrior who obliged by briefly leaving Atlanta's side so the narcissistic blonde could whisper into his ear.

As Jay watched, Archie's ensuing expression went from exasperated to thoughtful to almost kind. It was Neil the coward again, grasping the hand of the descendant of Achilles in a death-grip as the nurse prepped the needle. He was whimpering pathetically by the time his veins began to empty crimson life into the plastic medical bags.

At one time Jay would have found comfort and refuge, laughing good-naturedly at the antics of the descendant of Narcissus. Safe, with the knowledge that he was better, easing the lack of confidence in his own abilities. Now, knowing that Neil truly was stronger than he, his fingers itched to rip the intravenous cord from Atlanta's wrist and smash the bag on the floor. For a single, satisfying instant, his retinas presented a movie-theatre image against his closed eyelids. Clean chrome covered in scarlet spatter, Atlanta's final gurgling breath, and five heroic fingers pointing squarely at Neil as her murderer.

The next instant the image was gone and Jay watched the room spin, tasting bile in his throat. He couldn't remember when he'd fallen to the floor, and he barely acknowledged Archie patting his back and holding his bangs away from his eyes as the pretty red-haired nurse who had brought the blood samples shoved a wastebasket underneath his chin.

oOoOoOoO

Jay plunked himself down next to Neil, whose attention was primarily focused on a glass of orange juice that he held in still-shaky hands. A magazine was spread open across his knees, but he didn't seem to be reading.

The two heroes sat that way for a few moments, the sounds of occasional sips of juice clearly audible in the too-silent hospital hall. Jay wasn't sure of the amount of time that passed, but he eventually looked up at the descendant of Narcissus, focusing on his impeccably groomed hairline so that he wouldn't have to meet those blue eyes.

"You win." He said quietly.

That got Neil's attention, if only to flash the lachrymose hero a confused look. "Are you okay Jay?"

Pausing a second, anger subsiding slightly, the leader turned to look at Neil, mentally rethinking what he was about to say.

"Did you hit your head or something? You aren't making too much sense."

At the apparent insensitivity, Jay's temper flared once more, but his words were dull and emotionless. "Theresa. The team. They're yours now. You don't need me."

Neil's head snapped up quickly, his throat going dry. In desperation, he swallowed the last of the juice. "Ah." He thought quickly, too quickly. "I'm not interested in a relationship with her Jay. That night, it really didn't mean…" too late, Neil realized his blunder.

"So Theresa means nothing to you then? I'm sure she'd love to hear that." Jay's ears had gone red with rage, and he leapt back to his feet, balling his hands into fists.

"That's not what I meant." Neil backpedaled, cup dropping unnoticed onto the floor as he swiftly made to move into the potential escape route of the hall.

Jay circled back, faster than the blonde could move, effectively hemming him in. A part of him wanted to simply apologize and end the fight before it got started. Some remaining rational thought process simply couldn't imagine himself actually coming to blows with one of his gang. Neil seemed to be indecisive as well, shifting uncomfortably, and making small jerky movements every now and then with his hands, as though uncertain as to whether he should prepare to fight.

Like any cornered creature however, Neil finally struck out in a panic, catching the unsuspecting Jay hard across the nose.

He reeled, but his anger won out in that instant, and he righted himself like the fighter he was, coming after the blonde. Their arms locked, and they struggled a moment, drawing apart again when Jay kicked Neil's shin hard.

"Ow!" the blonde yowled in pain, and Jay danced backwards a few steps, that rational little voice clamoring that he'd gone too far; that Neil didn't really deserve this. One thought of Theresa in his arms however, and they were grappling with each other once more. The thrown punches were rare but the few landed blows still rapidly added up in purple bruises. Neil's infamous luck served to protect his looks by preventing Jay from landing anything in outwardly visible areas, but Jay's cheek was swelling visibly from that first strike.

Their fight had brought them close to the chairs that they'd been sitting in prior, and with one final shove, Jay sent Neil tumbling into the plastic seats, causing him to overbalance and land awkwardly over the low connecting armrests. He scrambled, half in discomfort, and half in an attempt to get away, but Jay leaned down hard over him, preventing any escape.

"What are you going to do to me?" Neil actually sounded scared, but then, that was Neil.

Jay leaned down over him, breathing heavily and feeling rather sore but now at a loss. That was actually a good question. What was he going to do with Neil? There was only so much he could hurt him, and what good would it end up doing in the end?

"Listen. What's done is done, and if Theresa really wants to be with me, then she's going to have to realize she's fighting a losing battle for my affection." Neil offered a weak smile. "You guys may tease, but it doesn't make it any less true."

A flicker of the old anger flared in him, but Jay pulled back a bit when he realized that the person he was really upset with was Theresa. Hadn't Neil just given him a clear shot in admitting that he wasn't interested in pursuing the relationship? What kind of person that made Neil himself was debatable, but he didn't exactly have an argument worth fighting over anymore. He pulled away finally, allowing the descendant of Narcissus to sit and rub the places where bits of chair had dug him in the back.

Jay was just trying to decide whether he could trust himself to sit here and talk things out with Neil, when the soft sounds of someone crying broke the silence. He turned back to the blonde, who raised an eyebrow.

"Come on…let's go see what the problem is."

Maybe it was a desire to make peace, but Neil rose without any of his usual protest and followed the leader down the hall. When they finally realized that the source of the sound was Atlanta's room, the two looked at each other, hovering uncertainly outside of the doorway, afraid to look in and see what they might find.

Biting his swollen lip, the descendant of Jason shook his head while marveling despite himself that he was now very glad Neil was with him. "We look together, okay?" he said, softly as possible.

Neil nodded, and the two leaned just far around the door to catch a quick glimpse.

Archie was asleep, slumped all the way forward in his chair, with his head in Atlanta's lap, and blissfully unawares of his girlfriend propped on pillows above him and crying as though her heart would break.

The leader and the narcissist who comprised the private audience to this small spectacle pulled away, but not before hearing Atlanta's voice, barely discernible through the gasping sobs.

"I hate this."

oOoOoOoO

Author's Notes:

Well. I'm sorry for the wait, but writers' block is an unyielding dungeon master! Going to Otakon was also fun, and didn't help the break in chapter writing from being anything less than extra long. So now there's extra pressure not to disappoint :D

Enjoy!

(Also, formatting is aparently all wonky so...oOoOoOoO)