"You can't keep dancing with the devil and wonder why you're still in Hell."
-Anonymous
-Ω-
Hazel was trembling, adjusting her helmet for the umpteenth time. She'd never experienced battle before; that was for the angels of death who collected the souls of the fallen soldiers, not for a meek messenger angel such as herself. The thought of her comrades chopped and hacked to the ground, tossed like ragdolls and shredded like paper at the hands of demons and fallen angels, sent chills racing up and down her spine like icy spiders. Frank was with her, too, and he flew directly in front of her, casting concerned glances back every now and then. She hadn't been alive when the two Wars in Heaven had raged on divine soil, and was very glad for it; most of the soldiers here were older than she was, and their eyes were wide, like spooked horses'. They'd seen the power of Lucifer's wrath, the dead eyes of their kin, the sound of feathers tearing from flesh and bones snapping like toothpicks, and there was no doubt that they were reliving it in this moment. They'd seen brother fight against brother, sister against sister, and Hazel remembered some of the few words that her father had said to her about the Wars:
His gaze was distant, and Hazel put her tiny little hands on his knee to try and comfort him, if only slightly. Even though she was a mere fledgling, her mind was functioning ten times better than the average human adult's would, and her vocabulary was wider than even the greatest philosopher's. "You two should've seen it," Hades whispered, his voice sounding awed and bitter at the same time. Nico, who was several hundred years older than his sister, sat nearby, pretending not to be listening but in reality fascinated by the whole subject, as the glint in his dark brown eyes suggested. He'd presented as a death angel, like their father, while Hazel had presented as a messenger angel, like her mother, and even though Nico and Marie were a bit distant, they still were on good terms. As of that moment, their mother was out delivering messages for her boss, an angel of nature named Zeus, who just so happened to be one of Hazel's many relatives.
Hades's eyes raked over the rolling hills of her childhood home in the Third Heaven, watching the souls who'd achieved paradise flit this way and that. "Blood was running like rivers on the street, and even today there are bloody hand smears on some of the older buildings in Machon from those who'd been wounded in battle. The ground was strewn with the bodies of the dead and dying, and the healing angels couldn't get to them fast enough. Their lifeless eyes. They stare at me at night, Hazel, and some of the skeletons had been picked clean, the marrow shining in the night. Some didn't even have bones to bury. The brothers I had come to know were no longer brothers, who'd long since withered and corrupted into terrible beasts, and my sisters were just as dead as my brothers were to me. Leviathan used to sell me statues and flowers, and I had to watch Raphael's spear go through her skull. Even my father had turned to follow Lucifer, and I saw him smiling as he ripped a poor fire angel to shreds. The same fire angel who'd been so young. So scared. And I'd told him not to worry, Hazel, I told him not to worry!"
Now Nico was up and trying to soothe their father, along with Hazel, who was wrapping her wings around his legs to comfort him. Hades continued, now reduced to rambling, "The second War was worse! Nobody, and I mean nobody was safe. Demons were now thrown into the mix, and now there were these creatures hiding in the shadows, dragging fledglings from their cribs and leaving their bones picked clean in the alleys. Do you know how horrible it was to have to reap their souls? I wasn't in the heat of battle like the last War, but this was so much worse…" his voice became strangled and he had to pause to take a breath before continuing.
"I remember a little redheaded girl. She had forest green wings that matched her eyes, and freckles that were spattered over her nose…so many freckles. She was wearing a white dress with a ribbon around her waist, and was playing hopscotch outside of one of the safe houses. The demons knew where the houses were. They pulled out her pigtails first, ripping the skin from her skull. Then they severed her wings next, with Stygian Iron daggers that were covered in the blood of others that had fallen at their hands. She was screaming and screaming and screaming for her mommy and daddy. For someone to come save her. Her dress was so red, so very red, and she bled out slowly. She was dead before they ate her, starting with her tiny little heart and then moving outwards. Sometimes I can still hear her crying out." Their father's voice faltered and faded as he finally lapsed into a silence that was plagued with regret and sadness.
It was unlike Hades to become emotional, but at that moment tears were streaking down his face, which he tried to hide with his hands. Hazel had never seen her father cry after that, and her father never again spoken of the Wars.
Hazel was jolted from her reveries when the centurions of her cohort shouted that they were entering Earth's atmosphere from the front of the pack. The triangle formation of warrior angels dipped as they plunged into a nearly ninety degree dive, and Hazel focused on the wind bellowing in her ears and streaking through her feathers as she pinned her wings against her body. Frank's very sculpted ass was right in front of her to observe as well, but he was a bit fuzzy around the edges as they severed the sound barrier in half. Her eyes were shielded by the visor on her golden helmet, which was shaped like that of a Roman gladiator's and had wings engraved into the sides. It'd been her mother's during the War, and it'd taken a whole lot of restoring for it to be in the state it was now. Her blood was singing, her angelic instincts taking control within her mind. She was born to be a warrior, even the most peaceful of nature angels were, and the dormant impulses reared their mighty heads in their awakening, letting out piercing roars that rattled in Hazel's skull.
Her sword hung from its scabbard and her armor seemed to weigh heavily on more than just her body. She was going to go into battle. She was going to run demons and fallen angels through with her sword, and the first blood she'd ever spilled would stain her mind. It was worse for the senior officers, she supposed, for they'd known these fallen angels. They'd been kin. Family. They'd faced off against them before and would now have to do so again, and the survivors of the Wars would be slaughtered in the next one. It wasn't considered a War in Heaven, considering it wasn't on heavenly soil, but it was just as big, Hazel realized. She would pass down the horrors of this War to her fledglings like her father had done for her, and she would cry just like he'd done. Unless Hazel became the girl in the white dress…
She didn't want to think about it.
When the cohort broke out of their dive, Hazel could see the gleaming lights of the city sprawled before her. She'd been to Earth only a handful of times, and it never ceased to amaze her. Humans weren't as genius as angels, but their minds were much more advanced than anything Hazel had ever seen, which was confirmed as the triangle formation brushed past a skyscraper and maneuvered around a great spire that Frank had later told her transmitted radio waves. The Hollywood sign stood proud and tall on its side of the hill, its throne, and proclaimed to everyone that this was where fame and celebrities were born, and she stored the image in the back of her mind for later reference. The swelling urban buildings reached out on all sides like tentacles, trying to drag more and more land into their masses, and streets wove through them as if they were serpents, their yellow-striped bodies standing out against the collage of grey and black and white. The light coming from the city fought back against the dreary navy of the night sky, their windows easily mistaken for the stars that twinkled distantly in the night. She dearly wished that they would land somewhere amongst the bustling city streets, where there were mortals as witnesses, because that would mean that Lucifer's armies wouldn't attack; it would be too risky for them to have their cover blown when their numbers were still climbing.
That wasn't the case as the centurions led the cohort past the impressive skyscrapers and flashing lights, to where the buildings became smaller and smaller until they dwindled. The sidewalks were still teeming with life, however, and they had to keep a decent altitude as to assure they wouldn't be seen. They didn't want their photographs spreading about on the internet now, would they? The cohort touched down into the remote alley that the Metatron, who was leading the first cohort, had assigned them. It was dirty to say the least, with toppled garbage cans that smelled rancid and mysterious liquid polling on the ground that the angels' sandal-clad feet wanted to stay well away from. Rats rummaged through the garbage, unafraid of the angelic presence that was not a foot away, and for a moment Hazel wished she was a rat. No worries in the world. Completely oblivious to the problems that plagued beings with higher intelligence. All you had to do was eat, sleep, and breed and that was pretty much it, aside from wreaking havoc in mortal homes, which Hazel would find quite entertaining. The crumbling brick walls that surrounded the cohort on either side were too close together for her to spread her wings, not to mention that the rest of her cohort wouldn't appreciate the squashing, and she felt a bit claustrophobic.
She wished she'd been a part of the cavalry unit, which wasn't deployed and would've served as a sixth cohort; the pegasi that they used were too obvious and noticeable in the crowded city. Now don't go thinking that these were dorky, happy little creatures that bounced around on the clouds and farted rainbows wherever they went. No, these pegasi were warriors, just like the angels themselves. Their bigger wingspans gave them faster speed, and they were almost as intelligent as their riders, though their free will and pride made them a bit difficult to handle. These pegasi were fierce and battle hungry 24/7, and most had lived long enough to see and participate in the Wars in Heaven. They bore scars on their gleaming hides, and their eyes glittered with knowing.
Hades and Marie had once taken their children to one of the public training sessions of the pegasi, for fun they insisted, but it was really just to scare Hazel out of wanting one. And it worked. Four pegasi were being demonstrators at this particular session; Tempest, Blackjack, Scipio, and Arion. They were all beasts, needless to say; savage killing machines whose eyes went wild with bloodlust as opponent after opponent was unleashed into the arena. The angels of nature who handled them conjured up savage beasts like bears and lions, and they'd slaughtered them all. Blackjack had liked to down his prey with a well-aimed kick and then crush their skulls beneath his hooves, which had been soaked up to the hock in blood by the time the session was over, though the dark ebony of his coat had disguised it very well. Arion was as fast as the wind, and he loved to tire them out until they collapsed, toying with them by charging and then dancing out of reach before they could deliver a blow. Then he'd tear them to shreds, alive, mind you, with teeth that were too sharp to belong to a regular horse. Tempest was a bit more merciful and wise, merely snapping their necks with little to no effort exerted by either party. It was quick, swift, and ruthless, and he tag-teamed with Scipio a lot, who was less enthusiastic about killing than the others and preferred to munch on the corpses afterwards, like some sort of sick vulture. Hazel had been crying when they'd left the arena and had never asked for a pegasus again. In the back of her mind, though, there was a little part of her that would kill just to get a single ride from one, especially Arion, whose rippling buckskin coat awed her and whose lightning fast movements made her heart twist. She was jolted out of her reveries by the loud voice that bellowed for everyone's attention.
"That alley over there," a centurion, who just so happened to be Ares, one of the few angels of power who existed, announced, pointing to a dark crevasse in between the buildings across from them, "Is where the new entrance to Lucifer's headquarters is." This caused a ripple of murmuring amongst the soldiers, who were trembling so hard that their armor was rattling, though the red-winged centurion silenced them soon after. "Our very talented Cherubim have located the location and the password beforehand, but that won't matter; right before the first cohort storms in, they'll jam the teleportation system to keep it from closing and switching places and passwords once more, and that's how we'll get in."
Hazel's cohort was the fifth wave, being the fifth cohort, and they had to wait for the fourth's signal before they attacked, as Ares had told them before they'd taken off. She wished that the centurions would be a bit more motivational, but they were too busy attempting to try and soothe their panicked soldiers, without much success. Frank wrapped his big, strong arms around Hazel as she trembled like a leaf, and even though she could hear his heart roaring in his chest it was a comfort to know that he was there for her. She leaned against him and clung to the steady rock, the anchor of her life to keep from breaking down. Her heart was fluttering with pre-battle jitters, and her stomach twisted and rolled with the anxiety, making her nauseous. Many of the soldiers had already thrown up, and she felt like she might follow them. But no, she had to stay strong. For Frank. For Heaven. So, with shaking hands, she and Frank hunkered down to wait.
-Ω-
Jason crept through the hallways, which were eerily silent, his shoes not making a sound as they gingerly touched the floor with every step. He couldn't deny that his surroundings were beautiful, but in the dark they were beyond creepy. For some reason, despite the fact that there were no lights to be seen, Jason could still pick out every single detail of the place. It was like the faint glow of moonlight washed over everything and made them visible, though there was no moon to speak of. Large columns stretched overhead, their polished marble surfaces like the deadly beckoning of a white rose. Underneath the pretty flower, there were only thorns. The oriental carpet muffled his steps somewhat, but he knew that his enemies had far better hearing than he, and he had to take extra precautions to keep silent. Occasionally an announcement would blare from hidden speakers:
"Heaven's armies have been detected. Please report to battle stations," said the monotone female voice.
His heart was stuttering in his chest, and the fear of being confronted, weaponless, by demons or fallen angels filled his thoughts, but he didn't allow that to cloud his senses as a litany of FindPercyFindPercyFindPercy echoed through his mind. Even though Michael had told him to run, get out of the place as fast as he possibly could before they found him, all of these passages were alien to him, and Jason might as well continue his mission if he had no idea where the exit was. Then again, he had no idea where Percy was, either.
"Heaven's armies have been detected. Please report to battle stations."
He prowled through the halls, his muscles tense and his hands trembling, and kept his eyes off of the gruesome, twisted versions of famous paintings. The eyes of the terrible demon that was whispering into Mona Lisa's ear seemed to follow him as he passed, and the stars in Van Gough's Starry Night were actually angels falling from the sky, encased in a fiery inferno as their mouths opened in silent screams. It made the chills that were dancing up and down Jason's spine grow more potent, and Jason shivered and diverted his gaze, but not before seeing the decorative display case with angelic weapons in it that was situated on the far wall. He hustled over as fast as he could without making any sound, and was relieved when the top of the case could be slid off for access to the weapons. His eyes immediately went to the huge, double-edged blade that had roses made of gold wrapping around the black hilt, but as soon as he picked it up he staggered under the weight, nearly having a heart attack when he almost dropped it. No, this wouldn't do, and with much effort he put it back into its place. The rest of the weapons were ancient-looking, so fragile and brittle that they would almost certainly snap in half if Jason tried to stab his opponent.
"Heaven's armies have been detected. Please report to your battle stations."
Then his gaze trailed to the only other thing, besides the sword, that was shiny, which just so happened to be a Roman coin of some sort. That was odd, because the theme of the display case seemed to be weapons, and there was no label on it whatsoever that indicated how this coin could be used as, well, a weapon. On one side there was an axe that had the letters 'IVLIVS' under it, and Jason was glad that his Latin was up to par when he translated it to mean 'Julius'. When he turned it over there was a picture of Julius Caesar engraved onto it, which only managed to confuse him even more. Jason would have to use this as a keepsake, he supposed; a lucky but mysterious coin that he'd have to look into more when this entire situation ended. If it ended. He flipped it on instinct, not really paying attention to the motion, but what fell back into his hands wasn't a coin at all.
Jason suppressed a gasp when his fingers closed over the hilt of a huge Roman gladius, and he was pretty sure that his heart was going to beat right out of his ribcage. The blade balanced perfectly in his hands, and it pulsed with angelic power that trickled from the blade and into Jason's blood, which sang with adrenaline. The blond let out a stuttering breath and decided not to ask any questions until he was in the clear, whenever that may be. Was it just him or were the shadows on the wall creeping closer? He didn't stay long enough to find out, however that's when he ran into something very solid, and his joyous blood immediately ran cold as he looked upon a face of angelic beauty that was so severe he almost wanted to avert his eyes out of respect. The angel spread his tattered white wings, and Jason felt like he was going to faint as the fallen Archangel's icy blue eyes trained on him, a cat who'd caught sight of a very delectable looking mouse. His lips quirked into a chilling smile.
"Hello, Jason, how nice to meet you," said Lucifer, his voice a serpent's whisper.
"Heaven's armies have been detected. Please report to your battle stations," said the alarm.
Then everything went black.
-Ω-
"Scout the area," the Metatron had told them before they entered Lucifer's palace. Alone. "Find the Archangels. They'll be able to help…if they're still sane, that is." They had been Iris messaged from the scribe of God before Heaven's armies had even taken off, so the humans would have long since infiltrated the headquarters before the armies were on high alert. Will clung to Nico as they navigated their selected hallway alone except for one another; the humans and fallen angels couldn't risk being clumped into one big group, where they could easily be rounded up and captured, or worse, killed, so instead they split up, and everyone who had a lover was partnered up. Annabeth had refused to join a team of three after Piper and Reyna had partnered up, and Will was constantly fretting over her well-being; even though she was an excellent warrior, she didn't have a friend to have her back and warn her of incoming danger. Everyone had taken a different hallway in hoped of finding their two missing friends or perhaps the Archangels, hopefully both, and the silence was eerie.
Heaven had supplied them with blades made of Celestial Bronze and Imperial Gold, which were the counterpart of Stygian Iron. Though its properties were hallowed rather than demonic, it still had the same effect; it could wound immortals permanently and could kill them. It was powerful enough to kill Archangels as well, though that was highly unlikely since they'll fry any opponent to crisps before they could even get a slash in. These ones were enchanted, though, so that demons couldn't sense their presence like they could with countless other things, and Will had a white-knuckled grip on the hilt. Nico seemed very at home with the Celestial Bronze weapon, having used it when he was up in Heaven, and even though it made him a bit homesick he was proud to be back in the midst of battle, as he'd told Will before they'd entered the headquarters.
Every once in a while they'd have to duck behind a pillar or statue in order to avoid a patrolling guard, and thankfully Nico's fallen angel scent masked Will's human one. That didn't keep Will's blood from roaring in his ears every time a demon or fallen angel walked past their hiding spot. Never once did they stop or pause to sniff the air, which was a blessing, but what if they already knew that the humans were there? What if they were just waiting to ambush them? What if there were no hiding spots the next time an enemy came down the hall? Nico placed a reassuring hand on Will's forearm, and even though he had a calm composure, Will could see the concern and anxiety glittering in the fallen death angel's eyes, which clearly told him not to fret so much. They continued on, avoiding hallways whose hiding places were too sparse or spaced out, and eventually the human calmed down. Nico was the steady rock next to him, and whenever Will was feeling the anxiety begin to cloud his mind Nico gave a very reassuring squeeze that settled his nerves once again.
They were walking for a while, Will knew, but he thought they'd have more time when suddenly all the lights shut off. It nearly gave him a heart attack and he clung to Nico, who gripped his hand tightly, drawing his blade from his belt.
"Heaven's armies have been detected, please report to battle stations," announced a female voice. Nico tackled Will off to the side and dragged him behind a pillar as the sound of hundreds of feet hurtled towards them. A horde of demons and fallen angels alike swept past, and Will clung to Nico's shirt and allowed a small whimper to fall from his lips as they thundered past. He was so scared, so very, very scared, and even Nico's calming presence couldn't keep his stomach from twisting and rolling. He forced himself not to hyperventilate as the last of the soldiers whisked past, and from that moment on the two of them kept to the sides behind the pillars. Even though the rug would provide cushioned footsteps, every so often a demon would hurtle from around the corner to join the masses, and the halting flow of stragglers never seemed to end. Even though they could take on a single demon, it would cause a commotion and draw others in as well.
They walked in silence for a while, and even though Will could see just fine, he let Nico's heightened fallen angel senses take the lead. He was terrified out of his wits, and sometimes forgot to breathe when a soldier ran past them, though they were too wrapped up in the repeating call to battle that the monotone voice announced at intervals. He counted the seconds between each announcement to calm himself down a bit, and found that they were staggered a bit, with no real pattern. Nico led them along, his face hard set and determined as he kept a tight grip on both Will's hand and his Celestial Bronze knife. The silence caused Will's ears to ring loudly, like an alarm blaring for him to go back, but he had to stay strong. Nico seemed to be relying just as heavily on him as he was on Nico, which was a bit surprising since Nico was basically Will's crutch at the moment, and he didn't want to let his boyfriend down by chickening out at the last moment.
The silence had become at least mildly pleasant by now, and the voice blared over and over again. Suddenly Nico stopped, and at first Will thought it was because another demon was around, but that would be odd since the stream of idlers had ceased long ago. Instead, however, Nico told him in a grave voice, "I can sense Lucifer's power." Will's heart was thrown into a frenzy, beating so fast Will thought it would burst. He tasted bile in his mouth and gripped Nico's hand so tightly that the fallen angel actually winced a little. Was Lucifer near them? Was he coming closer? What were they going to do?! He tried to voice these questions to his boyfriend, who immediately cut him off, saying, "Let's try and go towards it and see what we find." Will's mouth dropped open in disbelief, and his eyes grew wide. Was he joking? The look on his face suggested otherwise, and that only made Will's thoughts race faster than planes on a runway.
"Are you kidding me? !" Will hissed, his voice a loud whisper. There was no one around, at least that's what they supposed, and Nico would be able to sense another presence coming so they could dive behind one of the pillars. "We're not the dumb white people in horror movies who go towards the danger. It's suicide! Just a note that this is Lucifer we're talking about. The Fallen King, the Serpent, the very, very, very bad guy that is perfectly capable of destroying us and dispersing our microscopic particles around the universe!"
"Yes, I know," Nico replied through grit teeth. "But I'm picking up Percy and Jason's scent, too, and that can only mean one thing…" He trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air like a fog. Will didn't want to think of all the tortures that faced their feathered friend, and he could only imagine what they were doing to Jason because he was human and bled more. They lapsed into an anxious silence that had the hairs on the backs of their necks standing on end, and Will grudgingly allowed Nico to lead him along. Will really didn't want this to be on his tombstone:
William Solace
Died June 14, 2016
William will be in our hearts always,
but he was a stupid-ass bitch for confronting Lucifer
We miss you, XOXO
He was now officially trembling, and he wanted to be really angry at Nico for dragging him into this, but couldn't find the heart to do so. Besides, Jason and Percy were there, and maybe their friends would show up soon after they arrived to aid them. Lucifer's army would be too busy with the armies of Heaven to overcome them, and if they unleashed the Archangels that would seal the deal. They only hoped that one of their friends had found the captured legends and freed them from wherever they were being kept. After those thoughts had reeled through his head, an eerie sort of calm settled over the human's shoulders, something that could only be described as battle-calm. The acceptance and the willingness to fight for what you desired and what the world needed. Nico was sneaking concerned glanced at his boyfriend, obviously worried about the serene expression on the human's face, and he squeezed Nico's hand to give him a bit of confidence. They were in this together, in this until the end. It was a pity that they'd probably die fighting Lucifer, probably go down together before they really had time to live; during the time after their reunion, everything had been focused on the war. Nico would be reborn as another angel, and Will would ascend back to Heaven once more. He knew he'd probably be rewarded with new life, but realized with astonishment that he wouldn't accept it. No, he'd stay in paradise for good this time, and perhaps Nico will have a job in Heaven where he could visit often. The thought made Will's heart twist.
He was jolted out of his daydreams when Nico inhaled sharply. In front of them were two gigantic golden doors, inlaid with obsidian shards that formed two dragons, one on each door. Their eyes were rubies that glittered and seemed to watch the pair's every move, and their wings were spread as if to take flight. That wasn't the chilling part about it, though, it was the obsidian letters that were above them:
Abandon all hope, ye who enter here
It was the same inscription on the gates of Hell, and even though the battle-calm was washing over Will in a never-ending flow, he still felt a twinge of anxiety low in his gut. He was determined to remain level-headed, though, and with Nico beside him he felt like there was nothing that they couldn't do.
"Nico," Will whispered, letting go of his lover's hands to gingerly trace his jaw. The fallen angel, however, refused to meet his eyes, and worried on his bottom lip as he stared at the floor. So he was feeling the same thing as well, the feeling of finality, the leap as the finale blazed and ebbed as the curtains finally closed; the bright light that shined before the darkness enveloped them. "I love you."
"I love you, too," Nico rasped and wiped furiously at his eyes. Will enveloped him in an embrace where the fallen angel clung to him and buried his face into his shoulder. "I don't want to go."
"Me neither," Will whispered in his ear, squeezing him tightly. He took in Nico's unique smell, his face, and with a heavy heart let go just as the fallen angel did the same. "But we'll go down in history as heroes."
"I'm no hero," Nico scoffed crossing his arms tightly over his chest, looking anywhere but at his lover. "I'm a misfit and a loser."
"Well in that case we're a couple misfits who just so happened to do some good for once," Will replied, smiling a genuine smile that seemed to ward away all the tension and cause it to dissipate. Nico looked up, his big brown eyes sad but hopeful at the same time, and he managed a cheeky grin as well.
"Yeah…I…I like that," he told him softly, entwining their fingers once more, and Will rubbed his thumb over Nico's knuckles in a tender and affectionate gesture that they used to do when they were dating. During that time, they had no worry in the world; Will didn't know that Nico was a fallen angel and Nico didn't know that Will was a fallen angel hunter, and that was the one time they were carefree. Now they were off to face an enemy who they were unsure they could defeat, but that didn't matter anymore.
Will kissed Nico, slow and chaste but no less lovingly, and gave his lover a last comforting squeeze before announcing, "Then come, fellow misfit, and let's meet our destiny." They threw open the doors together and they swung open without a sound, revealing a huge throne. Lucifer was waiting for them, it was obvious in his smug smile and gleaming blue eyes, but then again, so were Percy and Jason. Only…not. Their eyes were dead, and they stared straight ahead, unseeing and unfeeling. Their faces were blank masks.
"Honeybun, can you do something for me?" the fallen Archangel crooned, and Will saw Nico recoiling as Percy let out a low, catlike purr to show that he was listening. "Kill them." Will gasped and his muscles seized up as Percy's wings flared up and out, snarling aggressively, though he was keen to note the fact that the primary feathers had been clipped. Nico tensed up beside him, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead "You too, Jason." Jason flipped an unfamiliar-looking coin and it morphed into a spear, which he leveled at him and Nico, an indifferent and ruthless expression on his face. The last thing Will saw was the Devil's wicked, cold grin and the rest of the gang, minus Annabeth, charging through the doors. A terrible feeling was churning in his gut. He couldn't hurt his friends even though they were more than willing to hurt him. For the first time, a true, pure sliver of doubt began to form within Will's head.
-Ω-
Annabeth's breath clouded the air in front of her, and she hugged herself to retain body heat, her arms covered in goosebumps as she shivered. She'd prepared for hot days, with the city being L.A. and all, but she was so far underground that the warmth had dissipated completely, not to mention that it was night. She didn't really feel the cold, though, because her anticipation trumped everything else; she was hot on a trail, and was pretty sure that the Archangels were near. Though she had her arms wrapped around herself, her Celestial Bronze blade was nestled firmly within her hand. The blade gave her reassurance and fed her the power of the heavenly host, which washed over her in a wave that soothed her frayed nerves. The lights had gone out long ago, and that annoying message kept repeating itself over and over and over again, which made it difficult for Annabeth to concentrate on the task at hand. She was as wise as she was smart, and immediately after that alarm had blared she'd dove behind a column to allow the swathes of demons and fallen angels to pass before reemerging from her hiding spot.
She wasn't brash, though, and was perfectly capable of identifying her weaknesses. All of her other friends were in pairs, whereas she was alone, and they all had fallen angels to help guide them, not to mention the fact that their scents masked the humans', while Annabeth was naked and exposed to anyone or anything that was sniffing her out. They could sense approaching foes and knew how to use the Celestial Bronze blades much better than the humans did, having trained with them for a good portion of their time in Heaven. Angels were warriors, the soldiers of God, and the fallen angels that accompanied them, minus the flight and the earth-shattering powers, were no different. They could fight like savages and dance around their opponents, their movements like fluid and their minds so much more advanced than Annabeth's. She wished she'd gotten to have a glimpse of Heaven's archives, because she would probably be a kid in a candy shop amongst the tablets and scrolls that were older than the universe itself. Maybe Percy could take her there if they ever one this war.
Percy.
Annabeth's heart stuttered every time she thought of the black-feathered angel, and it was so frustrating; she'd fallen in love with a being that'd clearly been off-limits from the start. They couldn't be together because of the divide between their two…species, she supposed…and if they did meet in secret, Percy would fall from grace. Annabeth didn't want to have all of that time and all of that energy invested in getting the angel's wings back go to waste, and despite the fact that Percy's reasoning was more than fair, she couldn't help but feel a bitter resentment towards him. Now here she was, putting her ass on the line for an angel that wouldn't, couldn't, have anything to do with her, but she immediately felt guilty after thinking in such a way. Percy was probably locked away somewhere in a cold, dark cell, being tortured to death over and over and over again. He probably had lost all hope. Had probably given up a long time ago. The thought made Annabeth's gut twist with remorse that was beyond belief, and she had to shake her head clear of the thoughts if she was going to accomplish her task.
She'd found a door at the end of the hallway she'd chosen, about thirty minutes ago, and after picking the savage-looking lock on it with the tools she'd brought, in case a situation like that came up, she'd descended the stairs that the door revealed. She was certainly getting the prison vibe from this place, and the announcement had long since been left behind, however in its place came the eerie but distant cries and moans of pain of those contained within the cells. Annabeth truly and sincerely wanted the monotone voice back, anything to keep out the wails and the sobs of those who'd been imprisoned within Lucifer's palace. When she looked through the bars on the doors, most of them were empty, which she was glad for, but there would be the occasional grinning skull or lumpy heap that had once resembled something. Chills pranced down Annabeth's back and tickled the back of her neck, and it certainly wasn't because of the cold, which she'd grown accustomed to by now.
Her blade gleamed in the dim lights of the prison block, and it made Annabeth ache for her old dagger, which was all the way back at the Golden Swords' headquarters. She was so consumed in her thoughts that she nearly missed the sight that sprawled in front of her when she turned a corner. Annabeth was on the third and final tier of a multi-floored prison, and there was only a thin metal railing that would keep someone from plummeting to their death, for the floors circled around the perimeter of the walls, leaving the center open. There were so many cells lining the side opposite to the railing, and Annabeth felt a sinking feeling in her chest when she realized that she'd have to search all of them for Percy, Jason, and the Archangels. She hoped her friends were faring well, considering that there was no one else here besides the prisoners, which was odd. She had no time to ponder over this, however, because that's when a terrible roar ripped through the entire prison complex, completely wiping away any suspicion that this place was unguarded.
Annabeth looked around desperately for a hiding place, her eyes darted around as her body made aborted movements towards the directions she thought were safest. She didn't have time to pick the locks of the cells and hide inside one of them, and even if she did she had no idea what sort of nasty creature was waiting for her. There was zero chance of her being able to leap from one side to the other, and going back wasn't an option; the creature would only follow her. All of her chances of escape were scattered to the wind as the beating of wings, like the pulsing of a heart, filled her ears, and she was pretty sure her heart stopped when a gigantic monster faced her, using its wings to hover in midair by the platform.
It was so gruesome that for a few moments Annabeth's feet were glued to the ground as she took it all in. The monster was undoubtedly female, as proven by the breastplates that covered her naughty bits, as well as the smooth angles of her face. Those were the only two things that could have her mistaken for a human. Her hair was a writhing mass of snakes, their blood red eyes boring into Annabeth as their tongues darted in and out, tasting her scent and apparently liking it as they hissed their approval. Her waist was covered in fur and had the miniature heads of deadly predators poking out of it, which would've been comical had those heads not been spitting and snarling, baring their teeth as their eyes glowed as red as the snakes'. From her position, Annabeth could see a bear, a lion, a tiger, and a goat, which seemed a little out of place. That wasn't even the worst part, though, because she was like a centaur gone wrong; instead of a horse's body, she had a dragon's, and the leathery bat wings that protruded from its shoulders had rips and tears in them. It was a miracle that they were keeping her aloft at all. A scorpion's stinger served as a tail, and Annabeth swallowed hard when the creature drew two scimitars whose scabbards were strapped to her back.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" she crooned in a sickly sweet voice, though her words were sharp and halting, signaling that English wasn't her first language. From the inhuman hisses and rumbles that filled the spaces in between, Annabeth wasn't willing to find out what that was. When Annabeth didn't reply, her green eyes grew hard and a chilling, close-mouthed smile crept across her features, though the blonde caught glimpses of the serrated teeth that her lips had hidden. "To start off, little human, I'm Kampê, also known as Sonnilian, but I'll kill you slower if you call me that." Annabeth was only barely able to roll out of the way as the dragon woman dove towards her, landing on the platform so hard that cracks riddled its surface. Annabeth was barely able to process the fact that she was fighting an actual demon, before Kampê began to slice and dice with her scimitars, and if Annabeth hadn't gone through intense battle training, she would've been sliced to ribbons by now.
Kampê was slowly pushing forwards, and now Annabeth had to block her blows with her considerably shorter blade. The fight wasn't looking so good, the human noted, so she decided to choose flight. Judging from the distance between the third floor platform and the second floor platform, the drop shouldn't kill her, but she needed to stall Kampê long enough so that the dragon lady didn't skewer her with her swords or her scorpion stinger, which was leaking a clear, mysterious liquid that looked very, very poisonous, considering that the floor bubbled when it made contact with it. She really didn't want that thing buried inside her chest. The only diversion she had in her hands was her sword, since she still needed the lock pick to bust Percy and Jason out, but the Celestial Bronze blade was very, very necessary right now. Then again, if Annabeth had a chance to drop to the lower floors, where the more strong looking cells lay, she wouldn't have to fight. She would die either way, he decided, and even though her odds were next to nothing, she needed to take the chance, because she had zero odds if she stayed to fight Kampê.
Aiming at the Crocodile that had replaced the lion in the dragon lady's front, Annabeth hurled her sword with all the might she could muster. Kampê let out a shriek of surprise, which was thankfully mingled with pain, and ripped the blade, which had instead landed smack-dab on her belly button, from her body. Black blood poured from the wound, sizzling when it touched the ground, and Kampê grinned wickedly. "I'm afraid your little attempt at killing me has f-" The demon then seemed to notice the fact that Annabeth was nowhere in sight. She let out a bellow of frustration and took back to the air, but that only made her lose precious time when she saw Annabeth scrambling on the bottom floor. With a screech, she dove towards her, and Annabeth could feel the blood roaring in her ears as she ran as fast as her legs could carry her towards the nearest cell, not even caring who it belonged to at this point.
Kampê's claws dragged across the ground, making a spine-chilling screeching sound as the serrated talons gauged deep marks into the large stone bricks that made up the floor. Annabeth heard Kampê swoop back up into the empty air, as well as the whistle of wind that showed she was diving down for another strike. She scrabbled for her lock-pick and dove towards the door as the demon's claws whistled past her ear, and the dragon woman looped back around to attack once more. The lock was simple and would normally be quick to open, but Annabeth's hands were shaking and her fingers fumbled with the tools.
"I'm not going to let you get away like that blond-haired bitch of a boy did!" Kampê screeched, hovering in midair only a few yards away from where Annabeth was furiously picking the lock. She was so close, so close; just a few more seconds and she'd be home free. "I reported his escape to Lucifer, you know. He's probably dead meat!" Though her blood ran cold, she didn't cease her actions, and she was a millisecond away from getting it to open, vaguely aware of the sound of Kampê swooping down once more. The lock fell, but not before a terrible burning sensation spread through her back. The demon cackled and touched down on the second floor, her green eyes shining with glee as she watched.
Annabeth crumbled to her knees right in front of the door, black spots dancing in front of her eyes as her blood seemed to catch fire. She only barely managed to turn the handle and collapse over the threshold, her breathing going ragged as she closed the door behind her. What was wrong? Why was she in so much pain? Her wound felt only like a pinprick…
The poison.
Annabeth took in a shaky breath and calmed herself down, allowing her heartbeat to slow. She moved very slowly, knowing that if her blood didn't flow as fast the poison would take longer to get to her heart. She was so preoccupied that she missed the raspy, "Jason?" She froze in her tracks; that voice sounded very familiar.
"Who are you?" she demanded, though her voice was growing hoarse and strangled.
"I'm Michael and you're hurt. I can smell Kampê's poison on you," the faceless voice replied. "You need to get help, and fast. You're a human, aren't you? One of Jason's friends?"
"Yes," Annabeth confirmed, though she was a bit hesitant. What if this wasn't really Michael? She couldn't see him in this complete darkness, and she was unsure of whether she could trust him or not. "What's it to you?"
"Your comrades are currently facing off against Lucifer…and Jason and Percy," Michael-but-maybe-not-Michael told her, and she was pretty sure her heart stopped.
"What?!" she hissed. "Are you lying?"
"I swear it on my wings," he replied, his voice deadly serious. "Lucifer has Jason and Percy under a spell, and the only way that you can break it is to kill him or send him back to Hell. I can do both. You're dying and I'm as good as dead, so I'm proposing a communalistic relationship." Annabeth knew that from her time in school, which she'd taken up after the whole Percy fiasco went down. It was where both organisms benefit from a symbiotic relationship.
"You want me as…a vessel?" she asked, her voice hesitant.
"Indeed," it was as if Michael already knew wat her reply was going to be, and he quickly cut her off as soon as she opened her mouth. "You probably don't trust me now that Giel has ruined your view on vessels."
"No kidding," Annabeth scoffed, meaning to sound defiant, but the low whimper of pain at the end ruined the effect.
"But you don't really have another option. I don't really have another option," the Archangel's voice sounded pained. "I'm very, very wounded, and you have exactly two minutes to live," Annabeth's stomach dropped like a leaden ball as he said this so matter-of-factly, "We need each other. I swear that I won't do anything to harm you…Annabeth," the human jerked violently as he said the name she had never given him, "I'm the only one who can defeat Lucifer and Kampê, but I can't do it in this state. You're in no shape to fight. The only thing we can really do is trust each other."
"And why should I? How should I know that you aren't some backstabber angel or demon or fallen angel that's out to get a meat suit?" she demanded, but her voice was growing weaker. She could feel her heart slowing down as the venom crept towards it, and she only had a limited amount of time before it breached her arteries.
"You don't," Michael replied. Annabeth worried her bottom lip in between her teeth and tried to come up with some sort of plan, anything that would keep her alive aside from taking this Archangel's offer. "You're strong. Not many are as strong as you, and you can handle my power. Please, I'm begging you." Annabeth was resigned, and she accepted her fate with open arms. Her thoughts were clouding, but she was still alert enough to hear Michael's soft, heartbroken whisper, "Besides, you're not the only one who's wanted him for a mate."
Annabeth opened her mouth to reply.
-Ω-
There was blood everywhere. Whether it was on her hands, dripping from her face, coming from her own body, or filling her nostrils with its terrible stench, it was there. She'd stopped trying to think a long time ago and just began to hack and slice and stab at whatever came at her that didn't have wings. She was terrified, so very terrified, and her heart was roaring in her chest as she plunged her sword into a demon's chest, pulling it out with a sickening squelch. She was distantly reminded of the fact that that sound used to bother her. She had no idea how many she killed, but it just kept coming. She couldn't see over the masses, and she was stepping on dead bodies and bloody feathers, which had her crying at one point, but the tears had long since dried. She couldn't find Frank. Where was he? She didn't know. Her thoughts orbited around a single thought: survive. The fallen angel crumbled to the ground as she hacked his head off, and the severed part rolled away and was trampled to mush by the writhing bodies locked in combat. She'd confronted only one Watcher as of now, having run Encleadus though with her sword as if he were made of butter. She was also pretty sure that a three-headed dog had attacked her, but she'd killed it so fast that she couldn't be sure. Her side and her leg were screaming, and her thoughts were muddled and unfocused. When would this terror end?
Survive. Survive. Survive. Survive. Survive.
-Ω-
Leo didn't think they were going to make it. They'd been dodging and parrying Percy and Jason's attacks for a while now, and neither of them seemed to show any sign of tiring. Though their movements were swift and calculated, capable of fending off their enemies despite the fact that they were outnumbered, it was like watching puppets dance around on strings. Lucifer was their puppet master, and he seemed to be having one hell of a time as he reclined upon his stupid throne with that stupid look on his face. It was so frustrating that Leo had all of these weapons at his disposal but couldn't use them, lest he mortally wound his friends. They were mindless, like zombies, and he would never hurt them if they didn't know what they were doing. He could vaguely hear the bellows and rumbles and clashes of battle that was going on a ways down the hall, and he prayed that the angels were holding out. If they were slaughtered, nothing was keeping the armies from storming in and tearing him and his friends to shreds.
He worked in tandem with Calypso, and they knew each other like they knew the backs of their hands. She was vicious with a Celestial Bronze blade, sometimes holding it point facing out, like a sword, and sometimes holding it point down, like a knife. Leo was pretty sure she knew an infinite amount of different ways to kill someone with that angel blade, and he concentrated on how proud he was of her instead of the sinking feeling in his stomach. As of now their strategy was surround Percy, who was flightless, and Jason with a tight circle, and ward them off with their weapons whenever they got too close. Jason was a bit more wary, since he could be killed by so many more things than Percy, but both of them were growing more daring and confident when they realized that their opponents were hesitant to inflict damage. Piper had a shallow slice on her cheekbone, as a result of Jason's new spear, which just so happened to be long range. He could poke and prod all he wanted, whereas the others had to get close to land a hit. He felt very sorry for Piper, who looked beyond pained to see her husband reduced to a hollow servant, and he couldn't imagine what it was like to have your lover turn on you like that. At that moment Perseus leapt forwards, his teeth bared in a snarl as he raised his Stygian Iron dagger, but balked as Leo aimed his flamethrower gloves at him.
It was an invention of his, which he spent a lot of his time perfecting, and its name was engraved into it: Hephaestus. He was the Greek god of fire, so Leo thought the name was fitting. It'd become a part of him over the years, and was a wrist-mounted flamethrower that shot fire whenever he moved his hand a certain way. It would be disastrous if it hit one of his friends, with Percy's feathers and Jason's, well, mortality, and he tried to reserve it just for a threat. They couldn't stay locked like this forever, though; pretty soon one side was going to crack, and it didn't seem like Percy and Jason would be that side. They were beginning to call the human and fallen angels' bluff, getting up real close and smiling wickedly when they didn't attack. Will looked so tired, finding it difficult to stay on his feet as he threatened Jason with his blade, a threat that the other actually laughed at before continuing his prowling. Annabeth was nowhere in sight, and by the looks on everyone's faces they suspected the worst. Confrontation with a soldier, perhaps? They didn't know, but the crushing guilt of allowing her to go off on her own seemed to weigh heavily on both their bodies and minds.
That's when all hell broke loose.
Percy, who'd seemed very interested in taunting Piper, whose gleaming blade didn't seem to faze him at all, suddenly leapt across the circle with agility that no human could muster, tackling Reyna to the ground. Jason took the group's moment of shock to knock Leo's legs out from under him. His head hit the ground and he saw stars, but not before two hands were wrapped around his throat, squeezing and squeezing. He gasped for air and only the faintest sliver managed to get through, and the dead blue eyes of his friend were glinting with a chilled humor as his grip tightened. Jason's body jostled and shook above him, and he supposed that his friends were trying to get the blue-eyed boy off, and he struggled weakly to try and help them. It was no use, because Jason's hands were like a vice closing around Leo's throat. Black began to creep to the edges of his vision as he gasped for air and found none to breathe in, and he didn't have enough energy to struggle anymore. He clutched Jason's wrists and tried to pull, but Leo was a tinker and Jason was a seasoned warrior. There was really no contest. He felt himself slipping as the black consumed his vision, and he could vaguely hear the screams and cries of his comrades. He'd been proud to fight alongside them, but he was now drifting away…
Away.
Away.
Away.
Then suddenly he could breathe, and he gulped for air like a fish out of water, gasping and coughing. The sound of one thousand nuclear bombs seemed to fill his ears, and a blinding white light consumed his vision. He needed to see…he needed to….he needed…sleep.
-Ω-
Leo and Reyna were unconscious but not dead, Nico noted as he saw their chests rise and fall. He would've sensed their souls ascending to Heaven as well, since the Metatron had told him that there were two angels of death, Hades, his own father, and Thanatos, on standby in case any of his human friends had to be helped. Angels rebirthed on their own time, which Nico was glad for; if the casualties were as bad as they were during the last big wars, the death angels wouldn't stand a chance gathering all of the souls and bringing them to Heaven without Azrael, and therefore they wouldn't be able to ascend. They'd be trapped somewhere in between the two panes of reality, which Nico supposed was very painful. But that wasn't his main concern right now, because he turned towards the door and only a single word came into his mind:
Glory.
It was Annabeth but…not. Her eyes, instead of the intense grey that was the norm, were blazing, as if two stars had completely consumed her eye sockets. Her hair shined like threads of woven gold, and a halo wreathed her head. She was glowing, and not in a metaphorical way. No, she was literally glowing, and the power radiating from her washed over Nico and comforted him with the familiar feeling of Heaven, and it calmed the fallen angel considerably; it felt like home. There was also that underlying layer to it, a vicious but fair force that was a warning that dared others to step into her path and meddle with her plans. But there was also something else, and the fallen death angel recognized it as a wispy thread of grace that, though slightly battered, was burning brighter than one thousand suns inside of Annabeth's body. He knew that grace all too well, and without a second thought he sunk to one knee, dragging Will down with him. The others soon followed his lead, though if their expressions told the fallen angel anything, it would be that they were too awed to really process what was happening. Piper and Calypso had tears in their eyes as they looked upon their leader with much gladness, and there was no doubt that they could see it too.
"Lord Michael," he whispered, and the overwhelming pride he felt for Annabeth was full to bursting. Her wings spread out behind her, forty feet of white feathers that glittered gold when they caught the light, and they were as beautiful as they were glorious, though their image flickered and sputtered as they tried to materialize from a human body. Nico's heart almost stopped when he smelled the venom that was coursing through Annabeth's body, could hear it being scorched away by the flaming licks of grace. She'd been dying, he realized, and soon after Nico noticed that Michael had been far too injured to fight, as his battered grace suggested, so they'd drawn upon one another in this time of crisis. Annabeth's body was giving Michael power, and in turn Michael was giving Annabeth power; this was what vessels were meant to be, a fusion of two species to form a single being that was all powerful and all knowing. The wisdom and raw power of the angels and the street smarts and instincts of a human combined to make the ultimate being, one that could never be overcome by another.
Lucifer seemed to realize this all too late, and his face had gone pale.
"You might want to get a new prison guard," said Michael and Annabeth at once, their voices blending and melding into something that was as beautiful as it was deadly. Even though they took the form of one being, it was still two. Just because Annabeth's body was the one that was being shown as of now didn't mean that Michael was gone, and vice versa; just because Michael was in Annabeth's head didn't mean that Annabeth wasn't there as well. Their form flickered and became solid, as did the wings, and instead of Annabeth stood Archangel Michael in all of his divine holiness, his hair coincidentally the same color as Annabeth's. His eyes were now a sharp grey, bordering on silver as they glowed faintly.
"B-brother…" Lucifer stammered as his eyes darted around wildly in search of escape, but Michael and Annabeth were blocking the only exit. "Please, hear me out-"
"There will be none of that, thank you," they rumbled, and amusement was tinging their voice, a mocking laughter that made Lucifer's hands ball into fists. He hadn't fought his brother since the original War in Heaven, and he'd still lost despite the fact that he was at full power at the time. He couldn't possibly win when he was fallen, and that realization was plain on the ex-Archangel's face, whose expressions were flitting from one to the next and couldn't settle down.
"What's going on?" Will whispered from Nico's left, nearly scaring the fallen angel out of his wits. He'd been so wrapped up in the events going on that he'd forgotten his lover was there. Quickly, he surveyed the damage; Piper was checking on Leo and Reyna, who were now sitting upright and talking, though their eyes were still darting between Lucifer and Michael, who'd lapsed into an eerie silence. Will's voice, though excited and brimming with anticipation, sounding a bit alarmed and anxious. Nico traced his lover's jawline with his thumb, just like how Will had done before they'd dove into battle.
"We've won," he whispered, grinning a very sincere grin, and he saw Will's shoulders sag with the relief, his eyes growing glassy as he buried his face into the crook of Nico's neck.
"Thank God. Thank God," the blond whispered, his hands fisting the fabric of Nico's jacket. "We made it. The misfits made it." The fallen angel's sleeve was growing wet with tears, and Nico didn't want to start crying, too. That would be for later, after they'd fucked each other into the mattress. A silent battle was going on between the Archangels, and judging by the livid look on Michael's face and the slightly alarmed one on Lucifer's, the eldest was winning.
It was the devil who finally broke the silence and spoke, his voice pleading, "I can give you everything you want and more." Michael scoffed at this, and Lucifer's muscles visibly seized as he was pinned down under the other Archangel's burning gaze. The fallen Archangel had lost all of his assets to winning the war; bribery, confidence, and the upper hand, and Nico could see how he was floundering. Michael was much more powerful than Lucifer, and it was like a cat toying with its dinner. "Please, brother," he whispered, now sounded desperate. Nico felt no pity for him.
"No," Michael and Annabeth replied simply, their voice cold and ruthless. "You've tortured me, my angels, and my comrades. I think you need to be put in your place."
"I'm begging y-" Lucifer never finished that sentence, because at that moment Michael and Annabeth snapped their shared fingers and he was consumed in a burst of bright light that, for a moment, filled Nico's eyes with a blinding white that consumed everything and everyone. The deafening bellow of the explosion soon followed, and he face-planted into the ground as a terrifyingly strong blast knocked into him. He staggered to his feet and saw the circle of ash where Lucifer used to be standing, and nothing could compare to the huge tidal wave of relief that washed over him in that moment. Then, and only then, did Nico relax.
"He's back in Hell, this time in a place he won't come crawling back out of," Annabeth and Michael mused, mostly to themselves, a slight smirk playing on their lips. The others seemed to be in a state of shock, clinging to each other with their eyes trained on the empty space that the King of Hell used to occupy, as if he'd just materialize once more and guffaw at how they should've seen the looks on their faces. Nico wouldn't put it past Lucifer to do something like that, but he knew that he was saved as Jason and Percy began to stir on the ground, where they'd collapsed right after Lucifer had disappeared. The gang seemed to lurch back into motion, a groggy dog suddenly woken up from its slumber, and they immediately hustled over to surround their two fallen friends, asking one question after another as the angel and the human sat upright and blinked around blearily.
"Give them some space, guys," Nico ordered, pushing towards them, but despite his stern tone his face was alight with joy. Percy's face lit up at the sight of him, and Jason looked beyond relieved, rubbing circles on his forehead and grimacing a bit. He must've had a nasty migraine. "How you feeling?"
"Great," Percy announced, at the same time as Jason grumbled, "Terrible." This pulled a laugh from the others, one that was mostly for releasing the tension that had built up rather than because it was funny, though when Jason joined in he winced and clutched his head.
"I feel like I've been hit by a brick," he grouched, sounding a lot like the eighty-seven year old man that was in his place but a few months ago. His grimace had turned into an all-out scowl, as if he was angry at his body for having a migraine, and it was quite funny to Nico.
Piper sighed and rolled her eyes, giving everyone an exasperated look that clearly stated 'I can't believe I have chosen this man as my husband'. Out loud, she chided, "How come I'm not surprised?" Jason opened his mouth, seeming offended, but didn't have time to object as his wife dragged him off to the side to inspect his injuries, her inner angel of healing kicking into motion and making her super protective.
"What happened?" Percy asked as they hauled him to his feet, but his question was answered when he saw Michael and Annabeth standing off to the side quietly. Politely. It took him a moment to process what he was seeing, and he drew away from his friends and walked over slowly, an expression that was a mix of joy, bewilderment, and hesitance plain on his face. Michael and Annabeth smiled at him, their wings fluttering in anticipation. "Michael?" the messenger angel asked faintly, seeming confused about the color of the Archangel's eyes, which were normally blue.
"And Annabeth," said Michael in Annabeth's voice. Percy looked like he'd been slapped across the face, and they quickly rushed to cover for themselves. It was pretty funny to hear a single being talk with two different voices and Nico crossed his arms and watched smugly. "I was poisoned by Kampê, the jail guard, while trying to get to the Archangels."
"The rest, by the way, are camping out in the prison waiting for the all-clear," Michael cut in. His expression was one of joy, and he seemed beyond delighted to be finally talking to his messenger once more. There was something else under that, though, and Nico couldn't really identify it merely by scent and expression; it was too confusing, too tender to be considered platonic, and the fallen angel felt himself putting the pieces together.
Good Lord, this was going to be fun to watch.
"I managed to pick the lock and drag myself inside. Michael was there and he wasn't doing so well," Annabeth told him, and Percy was completely ignorant of the signs, which Nico wasn't at all surprised about; One, he was probably in shock, and two, this was Percy. He was physically incapable of taking hints. "And neither was I."
"My wings were nearly severed, my powers fading. We decided to save each other," Michael continued, spreading his arms and wings in unison. "This is what a true angel and human symbiosis looks like." Michael's form flickered to show Annabeth once more, though their wings had found a way to conjure themselves so that its image wasn't sputtering and quivering. Percy was locked in a semi-permanent state of awe, his eyes sliding over Annabeth, who did, indeed, look beautiful, and Michael's wings that were spread behind her, which now belonged to the two of them.
"You'll be able to talk to both of us, but the other is always listening so don't go around talking shit." It was funny to see Annabeth's expression turned into one of confusion at her own words, and that was undoubtedly Michael's doing, being unfamiliar with earthly slang. "There's no real head honcho in this body. We're just…us. No, not the same person, don't look at me like that, we're still us. It's just that sometimes we'll be Michael and sometimes we'll be me. We're working on a schedule now."
"It's coming along very well," Annabeth announced in Michael's voice, sounding very proud.
"This is a lot to process," Percy whispered, and his hands didn't seem to know what to do, wringing together and jittering by his sides. His eyes were wide beyond comparison, like a startled owl's.
"Just kiss me, Feather Brain," Annabeth demanded and dragged the messenger angel by the collar of his suit until their lips locked together. Almost everyone in the room 'Aww'ed, and even Nico will admit that he joined in, and he wished he had a camera to photograph the shell-shocked look on Percy's face when Annabeth drew away, smiling teasingly. "I'm technically an angel now, so-" She was cut off when Percy grabbed her waist and pulled her close, sealing his mouth against hers for a deeper, more intimate kiss. Their wings fanned out, the feathers meshing together as their graces entwined, and Nico couldn't help but let out a scoff:
"Get a nest, you two."
END
-Ω-
Please review your thoughts for the last chapter! There will be an epilogue and several timestamps, so don't fret just yet (ha that rhymed) I love you all, especially those who stuck with me through this year-long journey in the world of Feathers(?)
XOXO
-Iwovepizza
Disclaimer: I do not own PJO