Disclaimer: I still don't own anything! All credit and thanks goes to Rick, who apparently has moved to my homestate of Massachusetts. I give him credit for the characters, but MA was mine first, Rick, dear. :)

AN: Thank you again for all your feedback. Things are starting to get a little bit rocky, all, and will continue to get a bit more fast paced. I had planned for this chapter to include a bit more but whilst writing it realised it would go the route of being 3x the length of all the others so hopefully you'll forgive me for the cut-off point. Love you all and enjoy.


Tempting the Fates

Chapter Twenty Nine

En Route

Percy


They ran in silence punctuated by the rhythm of their feet and sharp intakes of breath.

That, and the sound of monsters hot on their tail. Somewhere along the way Polybotes and his gang of merry monsters (because honestly to keep from being so depressed he dropped to the ground and just stayed there picturing them like Robin Hood and his men in tights was really helping for the last fifteen seconds) had caught up and their grunts and shouts could be heard from the distance. Not that Percy could begrudge Nico that— after all, the kid had kind of saved both of them.

And the display of power was fantastically impressive. Sure, he knew the child of Hades was strong because he'd seen him crack open the ground and summon the dead on multiple occasions including one of which they were summoned to try and hurt him but he'd totally forgiven Nico for that one. He'd just been a kid and after news of Bianca's death, well, if Percy had been a child of Hades and he'd lost one of his family and the roles were reversed? He was positive that Nico wouldn't have walked away as easily as Percy had that day. But all things aside, it was different to see that kind of power.

To see Nico— even from his vantage point of looking up at a bus sized dog ready to turn him into fishy flavoured kibble— emanating that kind of raw power? A lot had changed in the few years he'd lost track of Nico; he would have said 'they' lost track but he was developing a gut feeling that Nico had never really lost track of him except for maybe a few months before New Rome. His mind kept reeling back to the bright eyed boy with the dark locks and the slight not-quite-lisp (but his front teeth had been a little too big for him at first now he'd grown into his own pearly whites and they were impressive so far as smiles went when he could actually get the guy to smile), who bubbled with barely contained energy so ravenous to learn everything and see everything and do everything. Who was so baffled and excited to be a demigod when all other children just wished to remain children, tucked safe at home in their beds with their parents. So enthusiastic and happy.

In his place ran the shadowy boy— young man— next to him all long lean muscle growing into his gangly limbs, sinewy but strong, with deep shadows colouring the pale skin under his eyes. He would grow into those muscles but he couldn't picture all of the sharp angles of his bones ever quite fading though maybe they'd strengthen a little as he continued to grow. He was silent now, always so quiet and reserved never breaking the solace first. When he did move, it was with the power of the earth, strong and sudden and uncontainable. He had a temper boiling beneath the surface like magma. Nico was tectonic plates converging and over time he was Mount Saint Helens.

The Sea Prince had known he could control the earth and the dead but the dust, the very particles that made up everything, that made up himself…? He had always respected the other boy, respected (though disliked and disagreed with weren't strong enough terms) his father but Percy had a new regard for the Ghost King.

A new awareness of the hero's sadness settled in Percy's gut.

He shot a glance over his shoulder to the other noticing not for the first time that Nico's sight remained fixed ahead with the occasional dipping to the ground to make sure he didn't trip and fly face first over the irregularities in Tartarus' ground. It'd been that way— stuck forward, anyhow— since Percy had taken the younger boy's hand.

It was still gripped tightly in his own; for some reason, he just couldn't let it go.

Maybe it was to reassure himself that the other was still beside him because even with Bob travelling ahead, Poseidon's son would have caved under his own loneliness without Nico. Was part of it because of what had happened? Yes. As powerful as Nico might be he was also fatally frail in the moments following.

"Promise me you won't do that again," he found the words leaving himself before Percy pegged the voice down as his own.

Brown eyes caught his for a fraction of a second (and he caught the haunting shadows darken just a little under the boy's eyes), before they shattered the hold and turned away. If they'd been doors they'd just slammed shut and left Percy standing alone in the hallway. "I understand."

"N-no, Neek. I don't mean like ever I just mean down here, okay? You… after that y-you were in a bad way. Like convulsing and overheating and you were TKO'ed, right? If we got separated… if Bob hadn't been there… you'd be vulnerable. Just promise you won't? Not until we're back up top."

"I won't do anything that's not necessary." The words were as cold as they were diplomatic. They weren't exactly comforting but not wanting to make his friend feel any worse, Percy squeezed his hand.

He didn't miss the faint colouring of cheeks as Nico consciously kept his gaze anywhere but on the other.

Percy didn't miss the fact that Nico was breathing harder than normal, even for the unnatural gravity of Tartarus. Or that he was sweating rivers, again, not really normal for the other who always ran a few degrees colder than everyone— maybe from all the time in the Underworld or hanging out with the dead? But it was dripping from his black hair in buckets and his chapped lips were bleeding a little either from exposure or from being bitten. Overall, he wasn't looking well. What he'd done to save his older friend (well, technically older as in physically not as in counting the eighty some odd years Nico might have had on him as in like birth year)— or because he'd thought his friend was dead— had taken everything out of him.

If Nico was the earth, he looked like a field that hadn't had its crops rotated enough and the soil was going barren.

Wow, I'm actually pretty clever sometimes, Percy thought to himself.

He nearly took flight as the toe of his shoe caught on the ground and Percy stumbled, not letting go of Nico's hand in the process. Which really made things awkward because on top of tripping he also dragged Nico down with him, throwing the still exhausted boy off kilter. He wasn't surprised when he faceplanted in Tartarus not throwing his one free hand out in time to catch himself.

When he pushed himself up off the floor wiping the blood trickling from his nose and splattering into the dirt, sea green eyes met Nico's obsidian ones. They froze him with a gaze like permafrost— rock hard and cold— and Percy did the one thing he could do. He laughed and he grinned.

Nico, on the other hand, blinked six times before rolling his eyes and scrambling up back onto his feet.

So much for being clever.

"This way," Bob encouraged.

The deeper they walked the harder it become to focus. A chill ran its frosty fingers up his spine and Percy wrapped his arms around himself as they continued on.

Where are we going? What are we doing?

Whatever point there was, he couldn't remember. Not right then. But part of him knew that he had to follow the slight silver luminescence ahead of him.

But what's the point of going forward? What are we going to achieve?

No. No, you can't think that way. There is a point.

He tried to call to mind something to put things into perspective. Montauk and the beautiful beaches, the crisp sea air where he truly felt at home splashing in the waves as long as he could remember, collecting shells and talking to the fish even before he knew that's what he was doing. Camp Half Blood and Cabin Number 3 with its beautiful salt water fountain in the middle and the sea shells on the ceiling and reflection that made the entire inside feel like a bubble under the ocean. The first time he kissed Annabeth, truly properly kissed Annabeth not just as a friend who was relieved to see her but the first time it meant something more.

None of it sparked any warmth within him, like a dream when you wake up. All of it felt like a dream. Only Tartarus and the pain and the sadness and the violence was real. No happy thought was going to help him fly away.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught movement, sluggish and confused. He struggled to pull the name to memory but when it came it was sudden and blazing.

Nico.

The pit was speaking to him, warping his perception, sucking all of the light from him. How had Nico done it the first time without going insane? But the look on his face— he was stumbling now directionless, his face pale and features taunt. Until today he'd never seen the other boy cry save for that time when he was ten buy tears were streaming down his face once more and whatever song the pit was singing to him was despairing and hopeless; he could see it on his features.

If Percy was having a hard time in the pit, what strings was Nico grasping at? Because life hadn't been kind to him, not for a very very long time. Maybe not ever.

Grabbing his hand, Percy pulled the other half blood toward him and slung an arm around his shoulder, leading him forward towards Bob. "Come with me, Nico. We have to keep going this way."

"This way," he echoed, barely a shadow. His eyes looked ahead but Poseidon's son wasn't certain that they were actually seeing anything and if they were who knew if it was registering as any kind of sense in the other boy's mind. He could be seeing anything, really.

That's when he started whispering, his mouth close to Nico's ear. Whispering about New Rome and Camp Half Blood and the things he loved most about both. Maybe some of them would be things that Nico liked, too, because honestly it was hard to know what Nico liked beyond this image he had of him at the age of ten. The waves lapping at the shore and the smell of barbecue wafting over the beach, capture the flag and war games, blue birthday cake and sitting around the campfire. The words fell on unhearing ears and the other boy didn't snap out of his stupor, feet carrying him forward clumsily.

He held him a little tighter, pulling Nico closer as he helped to carry him forward deeper into the depths. Bob stopped, watching, and he never would have thought it but seeing a Titan sucking on his bottom lip in worry could in fact happen. "Is he okay?"

"The pit," was all Percy answered.

Wringing the top of his coveralls in his massive silver hands, Bob watched on worried, slowing his pace so they could follow.

"When we get out, Nico, you can teach me how to play Mythomagic. I-i think Hazel said one time that Frank liked it, too. You can teach me to play and then we can have a tournament or something. You and me and Frank. Zeus' sandals, we can probably even get Jason and Leo to play, too, yeah? Like a guys night or something. Across camp experience." Sucking in a deep breath, Percy rubbed at Nico's upper arm trying to build some warmth back into him— his lips were starting to develop a blue tinge.

"Guys' night?"

The words came out a whisper but Nico blinked a few times and started to come around.

"Yeah, a guys' night. Or, if that's not your thing, maybe you and I could hang out. I know I haven't always been the best friend to you… actually, I've been kind of a really shitty friend to you, Neek. But after all of this, maybe we could do something. I know it sounds corny and junk but get to know one another better. Us kids of the Big Three gotta stick together, you know? And if you need someone to talk to— I mean, I'm positive that Bob has been great and all," he flashed a smile to the Titan, "but if you want to talk to another demigod… you know, about what you're going through. About your powers and how it… feels, I guess… that's okay, too."

The words escaped Percy in a rush. Normally he wasn't one for so many things said all in a row because he was the spontaneous and jokester type not the deep emotions and talking about all kinds of feelings type, but if Nico was slipping, he wanted to keep him from going over the edge. He wore the last trip to Tartarus in his eyes when he'd gotten back. To have a second notch in his belt— Percy couldn't imagine that. Especially not having done it without anyone to share the burden.

Nico sucked in a breath, some of the colour returning to his features and chasing a few of the shadows away. He turned his head to face Percy but with the Sea Prince's proximity their noses bumped. Percy leaned back just a little so he could actually see the warming expression. Nico's cheeks were on fire, red burning a contrast to the porcelain of his skin and making the deep bruises under his eyes that much darker.

"S-sorry. I didn't realise you were there… so close. I kind of… the pit. It was talking to me."

Percy squeezed the younger man's shoulder and pressed their foreheads together for a moment, eyes focusing on Nico's. "Don't worry. I've got you."

He got a shy tilt of the head otherwise known as a nod in response and brown eyes dropped away with a small smile. "I know."

"Next time, I'll take you somewhere nicer."

"Yeah, like where?"

"Well, actually, if it's going to be nicer you should probably take us. Shadow travel and all. Otherwise we're restricted to the whopping… five dollars and sixty three cents I still somehow have in my pocket."

"You're hopeless."

"Yes, hopeless!" Bob piped up. "That means we are close."

Whatever they were close to, Percy knew they were going to find out soon, and he was still on the fence about finding out— mostly on the side labeled 'don't want to have a frigging clue.'

Stronger in his steps, he and Nico continued forward but just as they'd linked hands before, this time they stayed with Percy's arm around the other's shoulder. It wasn't ideal for a fighting stance but if they had to lean on one another to keep the other from succumbing to the pit, then so be it. And Percy kind of felt better for the contact.

When he broke into their rations for food, he tried to hand a piece of drakon jerky to the other demigod. At first, Nico shook his head trying to refuse but met with the son of Poseidon's less-than-impressed face, he took some and slowly started eating it. Even if he picked at it, at least it was better than nothing. Percy, however, was tucking into it three pieces at a time. His stomach might have shrunk from consuming nothing but liquid fire at first but he was throwing the food back like it was his last meal. The fact that it potentially could be his last meal, while depressing, also made him want to enjoy it that much more. He'd fought too many times on an empty stomach. Today would not be another one of those days where, in the midst of battle, his stomach let out its own war cry. That had the opposite of scaring monsters away.

The dark parted, invisible hands pulling back some kind of curtains or raising the mist from their eyes. Bob stood, still, and motioned with one massive hand in front of him. There was a field, not in the sense of lots of vegetation, but a dirt clearing. Earth would have been a little more moist, a lot healthier looking. This land didn't look like it could sustain anything at all.

"We are here," Bob announced.

Here was a melancholic meadow as barren as a crop in the midst of a draught. Surrounded by sharp rocks was a woman, hunched in the dirt. Even from a distance, Percy could see she was emaciated. Her dress was tattered and soiled, and hung off her in ribbons. Her elbows were razor sharp and her knobby kneels swollen and inflamed. Around her pooled moisture and it took him a second to realise that she was the source, not some kind of Tartarus-born spring. Up and down her shoulders heaved as she wailed, body convulsing with each wail. Hair hung down her back in stringy patches, dusty and greasy at the same time, sticking in dreadlock like strands (but no where near as clean as the time Grover had decided that was the look for him). Her skin was a sickly green, weathered and beaten like old leather and when she cried, his heart felt like it stopped beating in his chest.

"We are here," Bob announced again. "Akhlys will help."

"We're never going to get out of here," he whispered to Nico, his own throat tightening.

Nico turned to face Percy, clutching at his hand and squeezing it in his own.

"You were made for so much more than Tartarus. Your story won't end here."

The Ghost King held his gaze and, swallowing, Percy felt warmth surge through him. He nodded and squeezed the boy's hand back.

"Our story." And they stepped forward.