IMPORTANT: The italicized bold near the end is directly from The Last Olympian when Percy swam in the Styx. It just worked so well there I decided to use it.

Loki prided himself on being smart, especially smarter than his brawns-over-brains adopted brother. And yet, here he was.

Fighting a losing battle against a Greek primordial—of the Pit, no less—with an inept demigod-turned-god.

If someone had told him three months ago that he'd be doing this, he'd have laughed and said he'd never do something that stupid.

How the mighty had fallen.

A smirk played upon Tartarus' lips. He swung his weapon effortlessly, his huge stature making the giant broadsword look like a kid's toy. "Why are you doing this, Loki of Asgard?" Tartarus cocked his head, his smirk deepening. "Or should I say Jotunheim?"

Loki schooled his face into his usual impassive look. If there was one thing he was good at, it was lying—or bluffing, in this case.

"I was... incentivized."

"I doubt you couldn't have weaseled yourself out of this suicide mission." A raised eyebrow. "I thought you smarter than this."

So did I.

"So why are you really doing this? Perhaps you long to be a hero? To be adored instead of scorned. To be the golden child, like your brother."

Adopted.

Loki's teeth flashed. "You should not underestimate me. Or presume to know anything about me. Many have made that mistake. But few have lived to regret it."

Tartarus tilted his head back, howling his laughter. Loki kept his amused expression planted on his face. "Ah, little trickster. You amuse me. Both you and the godling do." Tartarus' eyes glinted. "But that will make killing the two of you all the more fun."

The deity's eyes drifted past Loki to where Percy stood, eyes closed in concentration. "Whatever little trick the two of you have concocted, you must know it won't work against me."

"Ah, well, I'm sure you enough about me to know I always have a plan B." A flash of teeth. Another bluff. "Or a plan C, in this case."

"Hmm. Then perhaps I should stop your stalling."

Loki stiffened, blocking Tartarus' sudden attack with double blades. He grunted under the weight but twisted and used the primordial's momentum to slide the blade away from him.

His clone appeared behind Tartarus. The clone's knife pinged off Tartarus' armor, and the immortal slashed through the copy. Loki used the chance to plunge his knife into a gap in his black armor. Tartarus growled. Loki jerked back, a line of pain slashing through his abdomen.

Tartarus spun. He lunged for Percy and swung. His sword bounced off the now-visible shimmering barrier around Percy. Loki grinned, blood between his teeth. "Nice try." His eyes glinted with madness. "But you'll have to work a little harder than that."

Tartarus turned back with a growl and renewed his attack on Loki. Loki quickly lost ground. He was already past his limit, not to mention he was keeping the shield around Perseus up.

Loki was quickly nearing a burnout.

If he didn't get his head chopped off first, that was.

He ducked under another swing, swiping low. Agony exploded from a deep slash wound in his stomach. Loki faltered. A thin stripe of blood surfaced on his left arm when he barely dodged a swipe from the broadsword. He fell backwards. Tartarus surged forward.

Loki went cross-eyed as he stared at the razor-sharp edge of the black rapier. Loki panted, too spent to escape.

Tartarus sneered. "It seems your time is up, Asgardian. For all your big talk, you've lost."

The sword swung down just as the cave began to rumble. With a sudden spur of adrenaline, Loki used the distraction to slip from Tartarus' grasp. Both deities scanned the cave warily.

Tartarus grimaced in pain, rubbing his chest. "What—" The primordial doubled over and dropped to a knee as agony ran like fire through his veins. He roared. The cave shook in rhythm, rocks raining from the ceiling.

Tartarus' sword was the first to go. Laying discarded on the ground, it crumbled to ashes. Then the primordial himself started to disintegrate. It was much stronger that Loki's spell. Ash, dark as coal, peeled off Tartarus. Sparks of orange and red shimmered in the black ash.

The disintegration started with Tartarus' limbs. His body turned black before slowly deteriorating, decaying into nothingness, like fire was slowly eating through his body.

Raging obsidian eyes met startled emerald eyes. "This is not over" Tartarus bellowed, blackened veins pulsing angrily around his eyes. "I am the almighty Pit! The Underworld's dark abyss! I cannot be stopped by mere—" Pain flashed across Tartarus' decaying face. He grunted, interrupting his angry villain monologue.

Loki cocked his head, putting a hand to his ear. "What? You're going to have to speak up. Mere what?"

"Do not mock me, boy. I will be back. And when I do, I'll—" His tirade cut off when his mouth disappeared.

"You'll what? Hmmm?" Loki cocked his head, pretending he'd heard an answer. "Buy me dinner? Why, how nice of you!"

Tartarus' eyes blazed in indignation, promising a slow death should they ever meet again.

Loki just smirked, eyes hooded. "One thing you should learn about me, Tartarus, is that I do not lose." His smirk widened. He purred out wickedly, "And I always get the last word."

With that, Tartarus was gone.

Loki's smirk dropped from his face. His bravado collapsed. He slumped against the rocky wall as the cave crumbled. A weary smile drifted onto his face, and he closed his eyes. Stones crashed down around him.

A laugh bubbled up inside him. He drifted slowly into the darkness.

He did it. The boy actually managed to do it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riptide cut the string like a knife through butter.

Percy watched, impassive. The two strings flapped in the imaginary breeze before falling away into the white nothingness. Percy floated, mind quite. He waited for the inevitable pain to come.

And come it did.

Like someone had thrust needles into every pore of his being, his body exploded. Tiny pinpricks of agony flared to life. His throat closed up, and he couldn't even scream. Any second now, his body would combust.

And just like that, it was over.

The pain went away as if a switch had been turned off. It left only numbness behind. A deep, unending numbness that was lulling Percy into sleep.

His final sleep.

He let his eyes fall close, sinking further and further into the soothing current of darkness. The shore of his mind drifted until it was but a measly speck in the distance. He was dissolving into nothingness. No more stress. No more pain. No more death. No more—

"The cord," a familiar voice said. "Remember your lifeline, dummy!"

Suddenly there was a tug in Percy's lower back. The current pulled at him, but it wasn't carrying him away anymore. Percy imagined the string in his back keeping him tied to the shore.

"Hold on, Seaweed Brain." It was Annabeth's voice, much clearer now. "You're not getting away from me that easily."

The cord strengthened.

Percy could see Annabeth now—standing barefoot above him on the canoe lake pier. He'd fallen out of his canoe. That was it. She was reaching out her hand to haul him up, and she was trying not to laugh. She wore her orange camp T-shirt and jeans. Her hair was tucked up in her Yankees cap, which was strange because that should have made her invisible.

"You are such an idiot sometimes." She smiled. "Come on. Take my hand."

Memories came flooding back to him—sharper and more colorful. Percy stopped dissolving.

My name is Percy Jackson.

Percy reached up and took Annabeth's hand.

Percy's eyes shot open with a gasp. Breathing erratically, his eyes darted over his surroundings—which was nothing but whiteness—before landing on three old ladies.

His eyes widened. Oh schist.

"Uh," Percy muttered, scooting away from the she-devils. "Whatever you think I did..." Percy trailed off as he remember he was talking to the Fates themselves and blew out a breath. "...I probably did."