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"Percy? Percy? Percy! Wake up!"
Percy's eyes fly open and he jolts back to reality in a quivering cold sweat. The force knocks Annabeth off the platform. She winces as the coals char her toes, and he hurriedly pulls her back up.
"Sorry! You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm okay," grumbles Annabeth.
"I'm really sorry, Annabeth, seriously, I-" Percy rambles on, partly because his mind is still running frantic from thought of her laying there, with him not able to do anything, which burns a vivid, putrid stench.
"Stop it, Percy, I'm fine, and you know I'm fine. What I don't know for sure is whether or not you're fine."
"I- I'm fine," Percy lies, knowing his efforts were futile the moment the words trailed off his tongue.
Annabeth stares at him; then he sees her hand flash, a blur in front of his eyes.
"Owwww! Annabeth!" Percy complains, rubbing his stinging cheek.
"Don't lie to me, Seaweed Brain. You obviously dreamt something. What was it about?"
She allows him time to gather his thoughts. He takes a gulp and starts out unsteadily, "Camp...Camp Half-Blood. And everyone who died in the Titan War. You know...Silena, Michael, Lee...Beckondorf."
The camp seems light-years away- was it just a couple weeks ago that they'd been back there?- and Annabeth's face softens. It is a sore subject for them all.
"I went up and talked to Beckondorf."
"About?"
"The war. This war. We beat Gaea, and the camps were rebuilt, and I was telling him about how the Greeks and the Romans could start making a treaty, putting the past behind us. Then...,"
Annabeth reaches for his hand and rubs her thumb in soothing circles. "What happened next?" she prompts.
"The camp went up in flames. Beckondorf...he died. You...you were there." Percy's face hardens and then collapses, all of the stress and pain more evident than ever. "You died. I killed you." He whispers the last part as if it is a self-realization, a possible truth that might occur in the near future, for whatever horrible, unthinkable reason.
"Percy?" He doesn't realize he is breathing hard until Annabeth settles a palm onto his panting chest.
"Mmm...?"
"You know you'd never do that, right? You know I'd never let you do that anyways?"
He sighs, "Yeah, I know. It was just that I wanted it so bad. Everyone, together and alive."
Annabeth pecks him on the lips. "Seaweed Brain, it's just Kronos playing with your mind. He's here in Tartarus, probably. You're stronger than him, though. Stronger than any monster he or Gaea could ever throw at you. A lot stronger."
Percy looks at her carefully, and all he finds is intent truth, the kind he knew from past experience that couldn't be argued with.
"You'll hit me again if I disagree with you, won't you?"
She smirks, "Hell yeah I am."
It takes Percy a few more days to have faith in Annabeth's words, which was a new record, since he usually trusts something she mutters half-asleep, half-coherent more than he trusts his own opinion.
A few days feel like decades in Tartarus time. A few days means thousands of monsters (who apparently are immune to the hot coal floor) and dozens of welts, bruises, cuts, and burns that creak, singe and burn with every touch and move, due to the poison that resides in them. A few days means countless endless nights, where the shimmering points of stalagmites hanging like darts from the ceiling are their stars, and Kronos' laughs are the last things they hear before jolting awake in each other's arms. A few days means the exponentially growing hole in the pit of their hearts, crushing deeper into despair and hopelessness, to a point where sometimes they have to stop, sit, and play memory games to keep each other sane.
"Okay, Seaweed Brain. What's your name?"
He doesn't know how Annabeth does it so much better than him. Whenever Percy starts to apologize for his incompetence and growing guiltiness, she assures him it's because he is forced to keep up a steady stream of water underneath their feet nearly every moment. By now, he has become accustomed to the half-conscious state he's suspended in most of the time, delegating whatever leftover energy he has from the water to simply breathing.
"Hey, wake up, will you? What's your name?"
Percy hates that she won't let him just rest. He's done so much to get them to this monster-free ledge, large enough so the both of them can sit and face each other. Why can't he have a minute of peace?
"Percy! What's your name?" Annabeth jerks on his arm as gently as possible without hurting his torn shoulder. There are so many injuries on both of them, they can hardly touch each other without coming in contact with one.
"Percy? Percy!" Annabeth's voice gets higher and squeakier. Percy thinks he sees her, tears streaking down her grimy face, but then again, he could be dreaming right now.
Still, dream or not, the sight of Annabeth so worried spurs him to reiterate what she said.
"P...Percy," he slurs softly.
"Ye-yes, that's right. Percy Jackson. Your name is Percy Jackson." She speaks slowly, like he is a toddler, her mouth exaggerating the shapes needed to make the sounds.
"I'm...Percy...Jackson," he dully repeats.
"Good job. Now, who am I?"
Somehow, remembering her is so much more easier than remember himself.
"Annabeth. Chase," he enunciates, making the both of them relieved (her, more than himself) that he is at least conscience in that part of his mind.
Death's doors are so close to them- in both ways. The large black obsidian wall stretches on for as long as Percy can look up. As they get closer, the door morphs into a plethora of gaseous, toxic clouds, semi-solid, creating a plume of fluffy smoke and haze when Percy sticks his hand into the eddies. He carries Annabeth at his side- the floor of coals stopped a while back, and he's recovered well enough to now return the favor and support Annabeth, whose condition is steadily declining.
A restrained blanket of light emits behind the shadowy gray curtains, and the first rays of natural sunlight stings Percy's eyes, but it is a good kind of pain. A hopeful pain.
"Come on, Annabeth," he grunts raspily, lurching to one side to catch her unbalanced, emaciated frame. "Almost there."
Arachne howls in the distance, her spiders screeching and crawling to race up to the demigods. She is the last monster, and the first, refusing to give up on the one whose family has humiliated her three times now.
They drag themselves along the edge of the door, and inch by inch, Percy gets closer to the opening, to freedom. Fresh sun bathes his skin, grown scaly, ghastly, and pale from the type of darkness in Tartarus that sucks all the moisture out of a body.
His fingers rake at the corner, and the sunlight heals Annabeth just enough to give her the energy to raise her head. They both stare weakly and in awe at the sight in front of them.
Nico and Hazel are raising an army of skeletons ornamented in gold and silver jewelry, puppet-masters as their minions slice and hack through a crowd of slithering purple snakes with horns and axes. Jason and Piper fight back to back, Piper's dagger reflecting the sun as it makes a brilliant, deadly arc toward a cyclops' head and Jason's gladius buzzing with electricity and shocking any monsters that come within a ten feet range of them. Frank is nowhere to be seen, but Percy hears a hawk cry from up above and a flutter of powerful wings, soon followed with razor-sharp talons diving down at a herd of centaurs. There's also a boom in the distance and a long trail of smoke wafts up into the sky. Percy can only assume the other curly-haired, Latino demigod of the seven is behind it.
It's Frank that notices them first, with his enhanced bird vision and all. He caws enthusiastically, beating his brown-white wings furiously and coming to a running landing in front of Percy. Moments later, Percy and Annabeth are crushed within his (human) bear hug.
"I knew you'd guys would make it!" he exclaims, his face beaming brighter than the sky.
Percy mumbles something, but his tongue is dry and heavy in his mouth and can't form the right words.
Frank immediately understands and pulls a Ziploc bag of small golden crackers from within his armor.
"We already prepared the right portions for you guys. It's the most two demigods can take without burning up."
Percy opens the bag, and he and Annabeth devour the pack of ambrosia like hungry wolves on a hunk of lean meat. He's feeling feverish after eating all those magic squares of blue chocolate chip cookies, and he knows its the most he can eat, but he wants more. Even if it means he might die, he wants more.
Frank sees his look and says quietly, "We can hold up the monsters for little bit longer. Rest first."
Annabeth shakes her head and jabs her finger in the direction behind them. "Arachne," she gasps.
"We can't defend from both sides. We'll have to close it now," Frank decides.
Percy looks helplessly at him.
"Nico's figured something out. Made a deal with his father or something, to help us close the Doors without locking someone inside."
At this point, the others have noticed their presence, and although they can't let up their defenses to come and welcome Percy and Annabeth, the heroes all battle with renewed vigor, grins creeping onto their faces.
Nico allows Hazel complete reign over their skeletons and steps to the side behind her. He shuts his eyes and the ground shakes violently. His entire body vibrates, and jagged black lines of an oil-like substance secretes around him. Then, Percy blinks, and it's all over, except now a god in royal battle armor stands in front of him.
Hades lifts his helm, and it disappears into a wisp of smoke. His armor is a black hole, a vortex of all damned souls trapped to serve their master in the war for the survival of the gods. All monsters disintegrate around him, and Jason and Piper are left showered mid-strike in onyx dust, looking back to see what happened.
"Jackson." His voice rumbles, smooth and rich. "Glad to see you're still alive."
"Me too," Percy hiccups softly, slightly ashamed of his servile position, collapsed on the ground, head raised at the god.
Hades turns to Annabeth, who manages to give him a quarter of her usual blazing firm look- pretty resilient considering all that she's been through.
"Miss Chase. Well done."
His calm tone sets Percy on edge, more so than any creature they encountered in Tartarus. The gods should be sweating, bleeding, and crying with their children, not waltzing around in dramatic smoke and gallant armor, congratulating them like it's not really a big deal. But before Percy can spit back a response that probably would have caused the god to consider absorbing his soul into the armor, Hades turns away to Nico and Hazel, who are not kneeling, but avoiding eye contact and fingering the hems of their shirts nervously.
"I don't suppose I can still talk you out of this," Hades sighs, more gently than Percy expects.
Hazel looks up fiercely, then falters at the towering sight of her father standing so close, but regains her posture with a jut of her chin. "If we don't do this, people die...sir."
"Always so brave," Hades murmurs, laying a hand on Hazel's shoulder, which immediately stiffens. "If only you could learn to stand the sight of your own father without freezing up so."
"You left my mother to die."
"And, dear child, I regret it nearly every day."
"Um, excuse me?" Nico talks hurriedly. "We should do it soon if...if, you don't mind."
Hades stares at him, and for a second, Percy almost believes lasers will shoot out of his eyes and fry his friend up on the spot; but the god of the Underworld is naturally scary that way. Instead, Hades looks more like a father than ever- a father worn out with the thought of having to send his only two children into Tartarus.
"Yes. Yes, my boy, we should." Then he leans down and envelops them in his arm, a sort of half-hug, half-pat, since Nico and Hazel, eyes wide open, are too shocked to give much in return. He straightens up and declares, "I have no doubt that you two are strong enough for the job ahead of you. Whatever happens, Nico deAngelo and Hazel Levesque will be remembered as heroes."
He pauses, turns to Percy, and says, "Jackson here won't let Poseidon take all the glory again, will he?"
"Oh. Uh, no. No, he won't," Percy coughs.
"Right then. I really do wish I can be of more help- to you two, of course, not these other demigod wastes of space," Hades adds dryly, reverting back into his usual non-paternal self. "But I'm already walking a fine line between breaking the law by giving you a way back out. Now, stand here."
Nico and Hazel follow Hades instructions and listen intently as he describes what is waiting for them on the other side. After, he raises his hands, and Percy knows from experience to close his eyes, as a blinding light flashes through his eyelids. The two demigods are gone, replaced with a burial mound of jewels, ashes and bones.
The god disappears as well, but his presence lurks in Percy's mind, a wisp of a wisp of a ghost, barely there.
Jackson...I am notorious for holding grudges, but even I must admit, you've surpassed our expectations. This is my present to you. Do not disappoint.
A surge of power coarses through his bones, unlike the rush he usually experiences when someone dumps ice cold water on him. The power is grounded and dark, not wild and raging as the sea is. It's as if the vast resources of the Underworld are channeling through his body.
When he gets up, his injuries are healed for the most part, aside from minor aches and bruises. Seeing the monsters rebirth and converge on him again, monsters who had frozen or been vaporized while Hades was there, he realizes now his mental condition is the thing to worry about, not his physical. Fear pounds at the door and the locks he's built up are flimsy and weak.
The monsters charge, with horns, teeth, and claws. Frank religiously defends the burial ground where Hazel and Nico are supposed to return. Annabeth, who is also healed, dangerously wields a spare dagger that Piper hands her. The two girls guard the left and right flank of the attack. The Argo II is racing toward them in the distance, but it'll be a while before Leo arrives. Jason catches his eye, and Percy nods, indicating that he is ready.
The war cry is a bit overrated, but it helps him release all his anger and frustration into the first blow.
"Arggggh!" Percy stabs Riptide into the furry, soft belly of the nearest monster, a draconian who slithers and hisses in fury as its tail convulses once more before evaporating into black dust. The spear that armed the monster is left behind, and Percy thrusts that behind him, vanquishing the draconian's ugly sister sneaking up on him.
Percy feels good to be back in action.
He feels a lake out in the distance, and in a moment, a raging tornado of water floods his side of the battle, the monsters screeching and wailing when the current sweeps them away into oblivion. The water coordinates with him, like an extra sense, no longer curbed by Tartarus' curse. In reality, it's harder to manage than usual (which probably explains why Jason's lightning bolts occasionally strike empty rock, scattering the monsters in a wide berth, but not completely frying them)- still, compared to the way the water rebelled against him in Tartarus, it works miracles.
He spins a full circle, Riptide gleaming with sticky monster blood, and finds himself back-to-back with the son of Zeus. To be honest, he prefers Annabeth, simply because of- well, simply because. Nevertheless, there's a certain quality about two children of the Big Three fighting as one that makes monster life expectancy plunge into an abyss.
"If only Hades was here," Jason says grimly, as the two heroes consecutively save each other from dying a narrow death by concussion at the hands (or rather legs) of a centaur's hind kick. There's a circle of thunder and hail over the demigods, pouring rain and crashing lightning, but they are barely managing; the circle is shrinking.
Percy knows that he doesn't mean the god himself, but instead his child, therefore completing the trio of the Big Three at last. Forces censored because of their power to end the world, now united to save it.
Leo comes just in time, with a statement that makes Percy nostalgic for his satyr best friend.
"Yo, monster creeps! Eat my enchilada butt!" Fire and oil leak from the sky as Festus' head appears over the treetops. Enchiladas stuffed with avocado, chicken, pepper, and other Mexican toppings pellet the most concentrated region of monsters, stunning them or knocking them down long enough for one of the demigods on land to wipe them out. Piper has a strange look on her face, and Percy doesn't even bother to ask what happened to the regular ammunition.
A ladder drops, and Leo's head, smeared with oil and ashes, pops over the railing.
He grins wildly. "Percy! Annabeth! I knew it! I knew it!"
"Good to see you too."
"Alright, now climb up onto this thing before I blow up the mountain."
"Before you what?"
Jason yells up, ducking under a swinging ax, "Leo, we gotta wait for Nico and Hazel to come back! How long until it blows?...Leo?...Leo!"
"Sorry, man, a little busy here!" A pair of clumsy, bulky Laistrygonians, tall enough to reach the ship, are taking turns jumping up and blowing chunks of metal off the ship's hull with each punch. Leo sends a string of fire from his fingers, burning off half their arms, before coming back to attention.
"Repeat that for me, Grace?"
By that time, Jason is already locked back into battle, nursing a vicious wound to his thigh, where the armor is dented and cracked. Percy throws a group of wheat karpoi off his legs and repeats the question for him.
Leo checks something behind him and answers with a worried look. "Not good, we have two minutes!"
"Can't you push it off?" Percy yells.
"No! The bomb's been set at the base of the mountain! I lost my control over it a while back!"
Percy looks despairingly at the empty burial mound. A grizzly bear swipes at whatever comes close.
And suddenly, Annabeth is behind him, saying the words of truth that nobody wants to hear.
"We have to go." Her voice is soft, but everyone hears it somehow. Piper follows her, running backwards so she can still hold off the tide of monsters.
Percy learned in Tartarus that in moments like this, there's no time for hesitation. Distraught tears and last glances are a waste of time- precious distracted seconds where an unchecked sword can cause a fatal wound. Annabeth knows it too.
Festus pumps out an enormous ball of fire, clearing the area to give time for the demigods to solemnly help each other up the rickety ladder.
He glances at Frank, stubbornly holding his ground near the Doors.
"One minute!" calls Leo.
"Frank! It's useless if you die waiting!"
The boy looks so broken that Percy wants to run in the direction of the Hell that's been his life for the past few days, and wait next to him.
"Frank, come on!" Piper shouts, but she is too agitated for her charmspeak to work effectively.
Feet planted to the spot, Frank shouts, "Go! I'll transform into a bird or something and fly away when they come!"
When they come. Unconvinced, Percy doesn't budge from his position on the ladder, even though Leo calls down a forty-second warning. Tartarus has greatly lessened his faith in the ability of life to delegate fair outcomes.
Frank adds quietly, "I won't die waiting. I'll fly if they don't come in time. I promise."
Someone tugs at Percy's hand.
"Come on, Seaweed Brain. You can't do anything about it. He looks as stubborn as you."
I thought your fatal flaw was loyalty, Percy thinks bitterly to himself. I'll be damned when loyalty means leaving your friends to die.
The problem was, he was already damned. He went through eternal damnation and came out on the other side. Maybe something had been taken away from him. Some trust, some faith, some hope; replaced with anger, hatred, and doubt.
Sudden exhaustion overcomes when he steps onto the ship, now that all the adrenaline is flushed out of his system, and he faints soon after. His dreams are back in Tartarus, though, with the echo of an image of a mountain exploding, swallowed by a sphere of inferno.
A/N: Don't worry, I'm not THAT mean. An epilogue is coming.
Please review! It means a lot to me, even if it's a couple of words. :)