Monay, here. Fourth chapter is up, and I don't think I need to explain the summary again, I think you guys are catching my drift, here. Anyways, enjoy the fourth chapter of "Locket". Yay! :]

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and The Olympians…

Chapter 4

Posy's POV

I sort of just stood there, rooted to the spot and not saying anything. Nico had a concerned look on his face, like he wanted to hug me but was worried I wouldn't hug back.

I wanted to say something in protest, shout at him and accuse him of lying, that it was a sick joke, but when I saw him, the look of concern draped over his face, a certain darkness in his eyes, I knew there was no doubting what he just said. He's Nico after all, a child of Hades, the god of death himself.

"W-What?" I said, finally, losing breath. "What are you talking about? My grandpa is fine, h-he's healthy. R-Right?" I tried reasoning in my head.

"Posy, I-" he said, but I interrupted him: "No." I shook my head at him. There was no way this was happening. This stuff just didn't happen in real life. Doesn't it?

"I'm sorry," he went silent again and gave a sympathetic smile. I wanted to slap that smile off his face. This was no time for smiling.

"But," I started to say, but the words became tangled in my throat and I choked on them. I turned abruptly and went into the house, slamming the door behind me, and leaving Nico alone. Inside, my grandpa was talking to my brothers about a fishing trip he was planning, my mom spooning a generous share of corn onto his plate. They'll never go on that fishing trip, I thought to myself as I forced my heavy feet up the stairs.

I wanted to tell someone, but who? If I told my family, they'd never believe me. They'd never believe that Nico just somehow knew. It was all up to me.

And the worst part was I didn't even know when his time would be. He could go anytime, out of the blue; maybe now, sometime today, or weeks from now. Now all I had to do was wait. That, and hope, that somehow I could change things.

Truthfully, I'd never given much thought about death. My life was too busy and boisterous and just filled to the brim with life that there was just simply no room for thoughts about dying. Sure, the topic flew by here and there in the middle of conversations, but I never lingered on it long enough to give it any relevant thoughts.

For most of my life, I never had to concern myself on the matter; my mom, dad, brothers, they were all living, and I hadn't known anyone close to me who died, and so I wasn't familiar with it, and for a while, I almost let myself believe it didn't exist.

Sometimes I thought the reason I avoided the topic was because I was scared, and even then I denied that fear by acting like it would never come. I was safe. And here it was now, facing me and me facing it.

It wasn't a good feeling, knowing that someone you love is dying. To me, the emotion was almost parallel to the feeling you get when someone holds a gun to the back of your head and demands your valuables.

In short, Nico's news scared me. I felt helpless and stupid, rooted to the ground, petrified like deer in the headlights. I didn't want to believe it. I sat at my computer doing nothing for a while, just staring out the window, and that's when grandpa's cat, Willow, jumped up on the desk. He layed down on the empty spot on my desk and stared at me with beady mismatched eyes, like he was daring me to do something.

I reached out and put my hand on his back, the soft fur slipping through my fingers, and he arched his back against my touch. He purred as I scooped him up and put him on my lap. I heard a small beeping noise and I looked up at the monitor. There was a blinking window at the bottom of the screen and I clicked on it.

"Landon Hunter" has sent you chat request. Accept? Deny?

I wondered how he got my screen name,and a little flutter went through me, but I decided now wasn't the time for him. There'd be plenty of time for my embarrassing crush on him later on. I clicked on "deny" and then I sat and moped some more, Willow meowing in my lap. I scratched his head, between his ears,and then I lifted him up and whispered: "It'll be okay, Willow."

Nico's POV

After she left me there on the driveway I decided there was no use just standing there. I'd look like a stalker. I turned around and started walking toward Percy's apartment building, and I heard my stomach growling. I hoped Sally had already started up some dinner.

Posy actually took the news worse than I thought. I had expected her to either a) yell at me, b) burst out crying, or c) slap me, but she surprised me by just staying quiet. So quiet, it was almost scary. At least if she had burst out crying, yelling, or hitting, she would have sent me a clear message; she's mad/sad, and I could've offered some help, I think.

But the thing with someone being silent, is that they're not exactly voicing out and openly displaying their feelings, and you're left guessing what to do, and whether it's the right thing to do at the time. It's messy. I thought about hugging her, but I was too afraid that I'd do something stupid and just make it worse.

The walk home took longer than it usually did, and I guessed Posy probably lived farther than I thought. By the time I got to the apartment, it was already starting to get dark. I was also just about ready to faint from hunger. When I knocked on the door Paul Blofis answered. He was an okay kind of guy, well at least for a mortal. He understood me and Percy really well, and he was part of the family now.

"Nico, there you are," Paul said, beaming at me. Gotta say though, it did kind of creep me out how this guy was just always so damn happy. "We wondering where you went off to."

"I just took a little walk," I answered as I stepped inside and slipped my shoes off. "Got food?"

"Yeah," Paul walked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed a flat cardboard box. He lifted the top and revealed a slice of pizza. "You can heat this up if you want."

"Sure," I grabbed the slice and put it in the microwave and then went into the room I shared with Percy. He was sitting at his desk doing homework, obviously frustrated. I took a wild guess and decided it was Physics homework. Everyone's got a weakness, even demigods. For Achilles it was the heel thing, Pandora it was the box, for Atalanta, she wanted the apples, and the Trojans bet on the wrong horse. Percy's weakness was Physics homework. Although I gotta say it's pretty entertaining watching him strain over a worksheet.

"Ugh!" he said, banging a fist on his desk. "Holy Hera! What the heck does x stand for?"

"Let me guess," I said, changing into a different shirt. "Physics?"

"Yeah, I hate physics."

"But doesn't Annabeth love physics?"

"She loves anything school-related,"

"Yeah, one of these days she's gonna leave you for a Calculus text book."

"Shut up, can't you see I'm busy here, trying to find the value of x?"

"Yeah, because that's sooo hard, right?"

"Yes, it is! It's not like you could do it! That's why I need to focus!" He pressed his fingers into his temples, pretending he was deep in thought.

"Jeez," I said, laying back onto my bed and grabbing my backpack. "You can take down a minotaur, but one lousy worksheet can reduce you to rubble with just a couple of numbers."

"X is technically a letter, Nico."

"F is a letter, too, and that's gonna be your grade if you don't pick up the pace with solving math problems."

"I'd like to see you try to solve these problems in one night. This is a whole month's worth of math problems!"

I leaned forward and looked at his paper. "There's only nine problems, what are you talking about?" He pushed my head away cursed in Greek. I smiled a little before turning back to my book and pretending to study. I wondered what posy was doing right now. She seemed pretty upset when I left her today, and I hoped she wasn't feeling too bad. Maybe I shouldn't have told her; what if she thinks it's her fault and goes suicidal? I'd hate to hate that on my conscience. It's bad enough knowing when people are dying.

I heard a slight buzzing in my ears. There goes another one. I thought. One more mortal's soul has fled to the Underworld. I always knew when someone had died through a buzzing noise in my ears, and for a moment, I wondered if that buzzing noise was Posy's grandfather.

"Nico?" Percy said. "You okay, buddy?"

"Hmm? Yeah, why?"

"Well, you're like staring off into space."

"Just get back to your worksheet." I turned on my side and tried to study, but my efforts were in vain. My eyelids grew heavy and I had no choice but to close them. In a few moments, I was asleep and slowly drifting into the dreaming state. Demigod dreams are never normal.

It's dark. That's the first thing I notice about the place. It's dark, and there's water dripping from the ceiling, and in the small amount of light, I can deduce that it's a cave of some sort. Then there's a boy. He's tall, as I can gather from the size of his silhouette against the light, but I can't make out much else about him, other than he's tall. It's still too dark. The place reminds me more and more of the Underworld.

He places a hand on the walls of the cave to guide him as he walks along. Then he reaches a dead end and starts feeling around, until he latches onto something, a lever of some kind, and he pulls down on it. It opens a door, a secret passage. the boy enters and the door closes behind him.

Inside is what looks like an ancient Greek temple; torches lining the wall, tapestries, gold treasures, incense, flowers, statues, an altar at the front, scented oils burning in hollow pots, and a pool in the middle of the floor. It was beautiful, but at the same time there was an ominous aura emitting from all of it.

In the light, I can see the boy better; he has golden brown hair and his skin is slightly tanned. His shirt was torn, but there's no blood. In his hand he's carrying a vase of some sort. It was rounded at the bottom and it grew thinner toward the top and it had two handles on each side. It's red and black, and the item suddenly becomes familiar; it's a Grecian urn. I wondered where he could've gotten one like it.

On the Grecian urn was a picture, but I couldn't make it out. The boy grabbed a bowl and threw more incense into the fire and watched the smoke rise up. After standing still in front of the altar for a few seconds, he went up and set the Grecian urn on top of the altar. Then he stepped down and bowed before bringing out a small bottle with red liquid in it, wine maybe, and tossing it into the burning oil torch next to him.

"Sorry for the delay," he said. I couldn't tell if he was talking to himself or the fire, but that was when I felt another presence in the room. A strong wind started blowing, so strong it almost blew out the torches, followed by a voice, deep and haunting, like a scraping knife.

"What kept you so long?" it demanded. "Did you forget the mission? maybe I should have sent another in your place." The smoke rose higher and it formed loops and swirls in the air as the voice spoke. The boy bowed again, lower this time it respect while still maintaining his composure.

"My deepest apologies, your omnipotence,but a replacement won't be necessary" he replied. "There was a distraction. The Nemean Lion was much more... difficult an opponent as I had surmised. But I have completed the mission; I have retrieved the urn."

The voice was silent for a while, but the existence of it was still present. "You had help." It was a statement, not a question. The boy looked unfazed by the accusation; he stood still. The voice was silent again, surveying the situation. "A demigod?" it spoke again.

"Indeed," he said. "I hadn't planned on a demigod's help in retrieving the object, but I lured him into the Lion's lair and once the beast was disposed of I took the urn."

"You told no one of the plan?" the voice sounded harsher now, almost angry.

"Not a soul," the boy said. "I was discreet."

"You've done well," the voice said. "Your reward will be great, but the plan is not finished yet. There is still much work to be done."

"I know," he answered. "I'm ready for the next mission, if you'd allow me."

The incense continued to burn. "The mission I am about to give you demands more of you. Are you ready?"

"Yes, give it to me."

"The urn you will retrieve is in the depths of Tartarus, in the Underworld."

"In the Underworld?" the boy said with more surprise this time. "How am I expected to enter the Underworld? I'll never be able to get in on my own. Only the gods know how to get there."

"You said you were ready," the voice said. "Maybe I was wrong to give this mission to you."

"No!" the boy said. "I'm ready, I can do this. I'll find a way in, I'll get the urn."

"I'm sure you will," the voice said. "You know the consequences if you fail me, Landon. Do not return without that urn." With one final breath the voice was suddenly gone, the air felt lighter. The boy stepped down from the altar and went to the back of the temple. Leaning against the wall was a collection of swords. He took one sword and a scabbard, and as he readied himself to set out, a girl in a long blue robe stepped out from another door. She walked toward him, with her long brown curls behind her.

"You have the next mission," she said, as she picked up another sword and handed it to him. He took from her and placed it on his belt as well. The he looked at her with a solemn expression.

"This is the Titans' last chance," he stated to her. "I can't let Kronos down." And with that, he turned around and went back out the secret door from which he entered. And then I wake up.

My first instinct when I wake after this particular dream is to grab my sword and a bag of clothes and head off toward Camp Half-blood to warn everyone, and that was just what I was about to do, until I wake up and see that the room is dark, Percy's in bed, and I'm somehow in my pajamas. Crap, Sally must've changed me. I check the time and realize that I had just napped for almost 7 hours straight, which was weird considering my dream only lasted for a few minutes.

My dream; Kronos planning another rebellion, the Titans' last chance, the boy's missions, the Nemean Lion, and I felt that I was somehow connected to all of this. That boy; he said he had help from a demigod in killing the Nemean Lion, was that me?

It had to have been me, there was no other demigod fighting that Lion and I was the one who killed it. But why would Kronos be interested in those urns or that lion? I thought long and hard trying to make everything make sense, and I even considered waking Percy. Soon it was two in the morning, and I had no choice but to forget it for now and go back to sleep. I pushed the dream to the back of my mind; I'd worry about that later.

As I nestled back into my bed, I thought about what I'd say to Sally about changing me again. I heard another buzzing in my ears just as I fell back into Morpheus's spell. The last thing that crossed my mind as I drifted back to sleep was Posy, and I didn't know why.

Posy's POV

I can't sleep. No matter how I force my eyes to close, they won't stay shut, and after an hour of unsuccesful attempts to stay asleep, I decide to stop trying. I sit up in bed and just stare at the wall, deciding what to do. I had to get sleep, I had school tomorrow; the insomnia's going to kill me.

I silently blame Nico for my lack of sleep, and then I began to think about how much sleep Nico gets at night; if I lose this much sleep over the announcement of one death how much more for Nico? The poor guy.

I push my blanket off of me and slip my bare feet into a pair of slippers and get up. I walked to the door and pushed it open and let myself into the empty halls on my house. These halls seemed much more friendly during the day; at night they seemed cold and lonely.

I take one reluctant step into the dark corridors, and then another one, brave this time. It continued like this until I was stepping with ease in the darkness. I stopped in front of the guest room, where Grandpa was sleeping.

I lifted my hand to the doorknob I , but then pulled it back. I didn't want to wake him, but I had to see him; I had to see that he was still here, and still with us. I took a deep breath, turned the knob, and stepped in.

To my surprise, the room was still bright. The lamp was on and Grandpa was sitting under it with a book and Willow on his lap. He looked up at me when I walked in.

"Posy?" he said, pulling his glasses on and standing up to greet me. Willow jumped down from his lap. "What are you still doing up? It's late."

I tried to stay calm, but soon he held his arms out to me and I buried myself in them, hugging him. "Something wrong, sweetie?" he patted my head. "You didn't have a nightmare did you?" I shook my head. "Well, what's wrong then?" I didn't want to talk and ruin the moment. He sat me down on the bed and put a blanket on my shoulders. Even Willow climbed up on the bed and snuggled up to me.

I took a deep breath. "Grandpa?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Do you have any, you know, memories from your childhood?"

"Of course I do, sweetheart. Did you want to hear one?"

I nodded.

"Oh, well, then, let's see. Hmm, ah, alright, I've got one. You know, I had a little sister once, she was a beautiful little girl, bright, mischievous, a lot like you. Her name was Rose and every summer we visited our aunt on a ranch in Tennessee. Rose loved animals, but she was especially fond of cats. One day, she found a kitten in the barn, and she brought it inside the house because ti was raining. Now, auntie didn't like cats, and she tried to take it from Rose's hands, but Rose wouldn't give up. She opened the door and said she was running away. So when she opened the door, the dog ran in all of the sudden, wrecked the whole place."

Grandpa laughed wholeheartedly as he recalled the memory. "Auntie was so angry with us, but before she could get a chance to slap our hands the dog ran past her, knocked her over." I smiled a little, although I never knew much about Grandpa's family, I felt like the memory was shared between us.

"I didn't know you had a sister," I said. "What did she look like?"

"Ah," he said, scratching his balding head. "It was so long ago, can you believe it's been nearly 50 years?"

"It was a long time ago," I said. "But tell me about her."

"Well, let's see then. She was a skinny little thing, we used to joke that the one day the wind would knock her over. She had thick brown curls and big big brown eyes. Oh, but she was a trickster, that Rose."

"What happened to her?" Grandpa's eyes lost a little of their sparkle as he recalled what happened to his dear sister.

"She died of some illness, I can't remember which one, there are so many. All I remember is little Rose lying in bed, shaking, her eyes red, and breathing deep, holding on for dear life. She was a strong girl, and we all thought she would make it, but I guess God was calling her."

"That's so sad," I said, brushing away a few tears. "She wasn't ready to leave. Everyone must've been in grief when she died." Grandpa nodded.

"Yes," he said. "So many people came to mourn her, myself included. We all kept thinking 'why her? why not someone else?'."

"Grandpa?" I said, sitting up and looking at him in the eye. "Aren't you ever afraid?"

"Hmm?" he said. "What do you mean?"

"Are you ever afraid of dying?" he cleared his throat and thought for awhile. Then he smiled and lifted my chin to look him in the eye.

"Of course I'm afraid, but I'm not afraid of death; I'm afraid of not being able to be here and see my family. Everyone dies; now or a hundred years from now, it makes no difference. When the thought first occurred to me that I could die at anytime, I was young and healthy and I thought 'oh, no, not me. I'm healthy, I'm invincible'. I think so many people are afraid to die because they feel their life isn't complete yet, they regret so many things and they feel incomplete. They don't want to leave yet because they have unfinished business. But when you come to terms with it, you accept your life; the good and the bad and you feel content."

"Do you think Rose's life was complete?"

"Perhaps, but it's not for me to say. Rose was a good person and everyday of her life she was surrounded by people who loved her and cherished her. No one wanted to see her leave; she died before her time. But if it were up to me, I'd say Rose's life was complete; she lived life to the fullest capacity and she saw it right to the very end. That takes courage."

I stayed quiet and let everything sink in for a minute, everything Grandpa had said about death and dying, and feeling complete. "What about you? What did you think about her dying?"

"I don't think of her as dead," he answered. "She's still alive, here in my heart. Her soul may be gone from the earth, but her memory is here and here it will stay; she is a deep joyful existence that will never die, except with me. Just because people are gone from our lives doesn't mean they are forgotten; they continue to live within us, and just because they die doesn't mean we stop loving them. Actually, I never thought of her as dying in the first place; I liked to think that she was going on a long journey, very long, and someday we'll meet again."

"Someday we'll meet again," I repeated. "You miss her don't you?"

"Of course, I do, I miss her so much," he said. "She was my best friend. But now I have you and Peter and Francis and my whole family. Sometimes when one thing dies another grows in its place. Sometimes not what was there before, but something wonderful all the same."

"So what grew up in place of Rose?"

"Many things; I met your grandmother, I had your mother and now I have you."

He hugged me closer to him and Willow jumped down for fear of being squished in the middle. "I love you, Grandpa," I whispered. "Me, too," he said into my hair.

"Now," He said straightening up. "Was there something you wanted to say?" I wiped my eyes again.

"No," I said. "I'd better get to sleep. I have school tomorrow." I kissed his cheek one more time before heading once again into the hallway and disappearing into my room. The warmth from my bed was gone, but I fell asleep quickly and didn't wake up again until the sun came up. A new day.

It's been a week since I found about Grandpa's dying. A week since I had last spoken to Nico. My nerves could only take so much anticipation, and I was searching endlessly for ways to prevent what was inevitably coming. I was losing sleep, I couldn't eat, I was missing classes, forgetting things; this behavior was just so out-of-character for me and I knew I had everyone worried. So today I decided to pay a small visit to Nico. If anyone could help me it was him.

The first problem that arose when I tried to pursue this plan was that I had no idea where Nico's school was or where he lived. I sat down on one of the steps outside and moped for a while, until I saw Robbie descending the steps.

"Hey, Posy!" he said cheerfully. "You seen Min around? I'm supposed to kind of tag along with her, she's my ride home."

"No, sorry," I said.

"Ah, well thanks anyway," he said as he limped past me on his crutches. I was going to let him past me, but then an idea came to me.

"Robbie, wait!" I got up from my perch and ran over to him.

"Yeah?" he turned his attention to me.

"You know Nico, right?" I asked, hoping that he could tell me where his school was.

"Yeah, why?"

"I kinda need to talk to him right now, it's kind of an emergency," I explained, tugging at the sleeve of my uniform shirt. "Can you tell me where he goes to school? I could meet him there."

Robbie looked kind of surprised, but he surrendered the information to me anyway. "He goes to Pierce High School. You know where it is, right?"

"Yeah, its next to that publishing company, right?"

"That's the one!" he said with a huge smile that seemed almost insulting to me in my grieving state.

'Thanks a bunch," I said as I took off down the street. Pierce High School was a public school just a few blocks away, I could probably make it there in time. I ran past the sidewalk pedestrians, not even bothering to mutter apologies or excuses to those I bumped into. I was a girl on a mission.

I reached Pierce High School just as the final bell was ringing. I stayed off toward the side and sat down to catch my breath. Even during track I had never ran this fast. I spotted a boy with black hair out the corner of my eye and when I looked in that direction, sure enough, it was Nico. He was wearing the usual black pants and dark themed shirt. He was with a couple of friends; some, I noticed, were girls, the kind with long pretty hair and makeup. I stood up and yelled.

"Nico!" I waved to him and he caught sight of me. At first he pretended he didn't hear me and tried to go back tot he conversation he was having with his friends, but he couldn't keep ignoring me. "Nico!"

'Wait a minute, guys," he said to his friends and then jogged over to where I was. "You ignore me for a week and decide to just show up at my school without warning me first? What are you doing here? How'd you -?"

"He can't die, Nico!" I said to him out of breath. "He just can't! H-He's not ready!"

"Calm down, damnit!" he said grabbing my wrist and pulling me to a more private location in an alleyway. "So what's this about not being ready? Ready for what?"

"My grandpa!" I said. "He can't die, he's not ready to leave yet. You have to do something, Nico, this can't be the end. I need you to see him and do something to help him!" I tried to grab his hand and pull him in the direction of my house, but he was stronger than me.

"Posy!" he said, pulling me back. "I'm sorry, but I can't do anything. I'm not allowed to mingle with other people's fate and stuff, I only know when they're dying."

"Nico," I said. "Please, I really need you now. If you help me this one time I promise, I'll never ask for anything else! Just please!"

"I'm really sorry, Posy, but I can't do anything." He turned around and started walking back. I thought for sure I could get Nico to help me, he was the son of the god of death, himself. If anyone could help me, it was Nico, but he just needed a little convincing, and at this point I was desperate. I ran after him and pulled him back.

"Please! You have to help me, I thought you were my friend!" He shut his eyes and pulled on his hair.

"How many times do I have to apologize? I'm really sorry about your grandpa, Posy, I wish I could help, I really do! But the truth is I can't do anything for you. Maybe you would have been better off not knowing. Maybe it would have been better if you'd never gotten involved with me, but we can't go back in time. You know what's going to eventually happen, and you can't stop it. The only thing you can do is prepare for the aftermath. You're grandpa's dying; deal with it. I'm sorry." He turned around again and I grabbed his sleeve.

"Wait!" I said. He looked back at me with steely eyes. "Posy," he said. "Let go." I released his sleeve and kept walking. Feeling defeated by Nico's venomous words, I turned around, too, and started walking home. My legs were tired.

Nico's POV

Just a few seconds after I left her in the alley, I immediately regretted it. But I kept walking, kept my head up. I felt bad about what I said to her but I wasn't ready to apologize; as a son of Hades, it was in my nature to bear grudges, but this one felt the heaviest on me. If there's one girl that can annoy me to the point of ripping my hair out, it's Posy. Posy who demands so much of me and thinks we're friends. But if there's also one girl that can make me feel so guilty I could drown, then it's also her. Posy who looked so helpless and lost, and would be devastated by the loss of her grandpa. Posy who suffered nightmares all her life by her ability to see through the Mist, who always had questions, but never answers. I mentally slapped myself for being so weak.

Posy's POV

When I got home, my parents were out grocery shopping, so Peter and Francis were in charge. Grandpa just sat at the couch reading his book and petting Willow. His visit would soon be over. Maybe Nico's ability to see his life aura was wrong. Maybe he wasn't dying. I went up to my room and laid down on my bed. Nico's words were like a sword, cutting right through me, mercilessly. I'd never seen that side of Nico; he'd called me an idiot and a klutz sometimes, but this was different. The Nico I had just walked away from was unfeeling and indifferent, he didn't seem to care that he'd just openly insulted me or was practically calling my grandpa a dead man. I felt a small ripping sensation in me, like I had already lost someone dear to me.

"Posy!" Peter walked into my room and held out a tube of toothpaste. "What is this?" he demanded.

"It's a tube of toothpaste. You want me to label the stuff in your room for you, too?"

"I mean, why is the toothpaste open? You forgot to close it again, you're wasting toothpaste!"

"Get out of my room, Peter!" I threw a pillow at him and he dodged it. I was never much good at throwing anyway. "Get out!" he eventually complied to my yelling.

"Jeez, attitude," he said as he walked out. I wasn't in the mood for arguing with brothers today. I'd had enough of arguing; I was ready for a little peace and quiet, a change in pace for the day. I decided to change into my home clothes and then I'd go down and join Grandpa in a reading session. It might be my last chance to ever do so. I dressed in a plaid shirt and a regular pair of jeans and socks. Then I took Harry Potter down from the shelf. I'd read numerous times already, but it wasn't the book that mattered to me. I sat at my desk a little while looking at it, then I saw Willow. He went into my room and jumped onto my lap; something he never did.

"Hey, Willow," I said to him. "What are you doing here? We're going down to see Grandpa." I picked him up in my arms and carried him down the hallway. He was silent the whole time.

I dusted off the book and went down the stairs, making as little noise as possible so as not to disturb him. I entered the room.

"Hey Grandpa," I tried to sound cheerful, like myself again. "Can I read with you? Oh, and I found Willow, he was in my room."

Silence.

"Grandpa?"

Nothing. I started to get worried. My heart was beating faster and faster as I walked closer to him. He wasn't moving, his eyes were closed. And he was terrifyingly silent. I touched his hand, he was still as a statue and cold. I started hyperventilating.

"P-Peter?" I whispered. I took a few cautious steps back. "PETER!" I fled up the stairs again, dropping the Harry Potter book. Willow curled up on the couch next to Grandpa's body. I dashed into peter's room, tears in my eyes and looking hysterical.

"You could knock," he said, not knowing the emergency.

"Peter! You have to come! It's Grandpa he's not moving! H-He's not moving! Oh my god, hurry up! I'm scared!" he looked concerned now. He held onto my shoulders.

"Posy, what's going on? Tell me." he said, holding me an arm's length away and wiping the tears flowing down my cheeks.

"I was going to go read in the room... and Willow, a-and Grandpa! H-He's not moving! I'm scared!"

"Stay calm, I'll get help. Frankie! Call Mom and Dad! I'll get an ambulance!" Peter dashed down to check on Grandpa and call 911. I stayed in his room, sitting on the bed and hugging myself, breathing deep, holding on for dear life.

Grandpa was rushed to the emergency room that night. Peter, Frankie, Mom, Dad, and I all went with him, but we couldn't hold his hand or talk to him. We kept vigil in the waiting room; it was agony, not knowing. All my life I've had questions, I've had doubts, and I was tired of not knowing. I wanted answers.

Grandpa died tonight. Stroke is what the doctors said killed him. I was crying so hard I couldn't even see, I couldn't hear. All I heard was my muffled voice calling out to him.

Nico's POV

I was sleeping, because it was late. I was used to hearing buzzing noises in my ears indicating that someone had just entered the Underworld. So what was so different about this noise. It was the same buzzing noise I always heard when someone died, but why was it so prominent in my ears? Why did it wake me? In a few moments the answer was clear; Posy's grandpa. I never cried, or at least i didn't allow myself to. But tonight, I let myself shed a few silent tears for him. It wasn't my loss, but I felt connected to him somehow. Find your way to Elysium.

TBC...

Yay! Chapter 4! Please review, kiddies!