A/N
It's the first chapter on Death Race for Love!
The title of the story is obviously inspired by Juice WRLD's album of the same name.
This story is set after HoO, and set in an AU where Percy went through Tartarus alone, with Annabeth as his burden.
A bit of Percabeth bashing and another one-sided pairing, so be warned!
TW: Suicide, PTSD, Crippling Loneliness.
(I'm not great at writing angst, so consider this a first attempt. I'd appreciate tips on how to write a compelling angst story.)
Enjoy!
Camp Half-Blood. Poseidon Cabin.
Percy woke up, feeling the sting of the cold air as he discovered his bed was empty. Gone was her warmth, her body. There was only a cold, empty feeling left in his heart.
(He couldn't say she was warm, to be honest.
She had been cold for a while.)
Percy didn't know if he could feel any more. He knew what she was doing with him, after he'd carried her out of Tartarus. He'd singlehandedly got through Tartarus, carefully carrying her unconscious form after she had passed out from pain.
And she was still doing this.
She thought Percy wouldn't notice, would never notice. He did, after the first time.
Tartarus had absolutely destroyed him. He'd woke up from a night terror, paralysed in his sleep, watching, hearing as she exited his cabin to find him. In the morning, she was back, like she had never left.
Percy hated her.
(He thought he did. How would he hate? He had nothing left.
Not even feelings.
Was he even human anymore?)
He'd loved her once, but now... he was just pretending. He couldn't after the Wars and The Pit and now this.
She never sat by him anymore. She had never done anything with him anymore. Gone, off doing Gods know what with him. Percy idly wondered how his girlfriend hadn't noticed yet. Maybe she had. Who knew. Percy sure as fuck didn't.
Percy knew they were probably off in the woods doing some stupid roleplay. They wouldn't dare in his cabin, with it being Cabin Three and all. He would get smote before he could even say a word.
(Maybe it was a good option.)
The Son of Poseidon just sighed, fingering the pen in his pocket. He took it out, admiring its form, and its beauty.
Anaklusmos.
The one thing that still kept him sane, even if it was unusual. He'd study his blade and find something there he hadn't noticed before, an extra scratch, a minor dent, a speck of dried blood.
Once, he'd heard Zoe's voice.
(He was going crazy. He wouldn't deny it.)
He heard it again and again and again.
Percy heard it tonight, as well.
Gone tonight, too, huh?
Percy sighed and nodded, before chuckling to himself. Yeah, he was crazy.
You know, you could just confront her about it. The bitch, I mean.
He never thought he'd hear Zoe Nightshade call a girl a bitch, but he supposed it was an exception.
"No, it's... it's still too painful. I wonder when Piper's going to find out."
The voice in his head snorted.
Soon, probably. Aphrodite found out about the dick. She's planning on absolutely destroying the two infidels.
It was Percy's turn to snort.
"I fucking hope she does something good."
Zoe's voice hummed in his head, and he remembered a phrase he'd heard from the Goddess of Love, so long ago.
(The greatest love stories end in tragedy, Percy. They always do.)
"She knew."
Zoe made a questioning sound in his head, and he elaborated further.
"Aphrodite. She knew this was going to happen. She told me on the damned quest for Artemis."
The voice in his head made a sound of surprise, before it became quiet again.
He remembered other words that the Love Goddess had spoken, though not to him.
No demigod will ever heal your heart.
His was broken, completely broken.
(It'd probably never heal.)
Love was absolutely cruel. Maybe that was why Love and War went so well together. Aphrodite and Ares.
Percy didn't know if she loved him;
(he didn't love her anymore.)
but if she still did, maybe he'd make her hurt too.
(The greatest love stories end in tragedy, Percy. They always do.)
If what he was planning did work out, he wouldn't have to hurt anymore either.
Zoe warned him, worriedly, but he was too far gone. He'd made his decision.
(The words kept repeating in his head. They drowned out everything else.)
(The greatest love stories end in tragedy, Percy. They always do.)
'I'll be seeing you soon, Zoe.'
Camp Half-Blood. Forest.
Annabeth was worried.
She had accidentally stayed with Jason, in the forest, overnight. Annabeth was absolutely positive that Percy was probably freaking out now.
Percy.
Guilt bubbled up in her chest as she thought of her boyfriend. She'd been sneaking off, messing with Jason, because he offered her something Percy couldn't. Someone whole.
But it was her fault. She'd passed out in the Pit, she hadn't managed to help him. It was her fault he was broken. But being with Jason made her feel normal, not as if she was dating someone who was stuck in their own head.
Jason still couldn't compare to Percy, though. She loved Percy, she lusted after Jason. There was a difference. But she couldn't give up the Son of Jupiter, because she couldn't deal with Percy and his night terrors and everything else.
She bit her lip as she walked into camp, weighing the pros and cons, but as she arrived was shocked to find out no one was scrambling to find her. Percy had once sent out a search party for her after she'd left one night, and he had a terror and she wasn't there.
"Hey, Annabeth, where's Percy?"
Annabeth looked at Katie Gardner, surprised. She had expected Percy to be up and about by now. It was 11am, and he was supposed to be the instructor for the new kids.
"Probably in his cabin."
She had truly no idea, but Katie accepted her answer, and Annabeth quickly made her way towards the Poseidon Cabin.
She knocked on the door.
"Percy...?"
She opened the door, and saw him, lying on his bed, unnaturally pale.
Then she saw the blood.
She screamed, and everyone scampered into Cabin Three, and looked on in shock at the lifeless form of Percy Jackson.
Dead by his own hand.
"Why?"
Annabeth felt dread creep into her heart as she heard the question. He couldn't have found out, could he? No, she was sure that she'd covered her tracks. Unless-
His sleep paralysis. He'd told her, once. Fuck.
Annabeth crept closer to his bed, and saw his clenched fist, with a piece of paper on it.
A suicide note.
She read the four words, and she knew he'd found out.
Pain.
Wise Girl.
Pain.
Elysium. Melinoe's Bar.
"You think I hurt her enough?"
"Yeah, Percy."
Zoe looked at the Son of Poseidon, who sat emotionlessly.
Even Elysium wasn't enough to heal him. Even in Death, he'd never find peace. Nor would he find rest.
"Fuck love."
Their glasses clinked together, and they both drank their beers in silence.
(He was drunk off his arse.)
"Hey Zo?"
"Yeah Perce?"
"I love you."
She stayed silent, because she didn't love him. Cared, yes. Loved? No.
He just gave her a crooked grin. It wasn't even sad. "I know. You don't."
The Son of Poseidon just slumped back onto the cushion of the booth, and sighed loudly.
"That's a trend, isn't it, Zo?"
She stayed silent. Again.
"Good answer. You wanna- wanna know sumn?"
Zoe couldn't bring herself to speak at the sight of the broken Hero before her. Tears were running down his face, and his eyes held a look that spoke of terrors that even she had never seen. But his grin held strong.
(He was good at faking smiles. He did it all the time, at camp. When he was alive.)
The Son of Poseidon leant over the table, signing for Zoe to do the same. She couldn't deny him, not while he was like this.
He covered his mouth, as if he were telling the Daughter of Atlas a huge secret.
She felt his hot breath tickle her ear, with the close proximity of the two.
"The greatest love stories end in tragedy. They always do."
Percy pulled back and smiled at her softly, kindly, losing his crazy look from before. Tear tracks were visible on his face,but any actual tears were banished from sight.
The Son of Poseidon got up and exited the booth, flipping a drachma at the bartender.
Just as he was about to walk past Zoe, Percy froze and turned to her.
"Yeah, fuck love."
A second later, he was gone, and Zoe Nightshade mourned for the death of Percy Jackson.
Fin.