Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. The characters are based off Rick Riordan's but the mythology is a combination of Greek and Roman. Liberties have been taken!

AN: I feel pretty good to keeping my word about trying to get about 5 chapters a week. Not sure if I'll be able to keep up at that speed but for the moment it's working! Don't be surprised if shortly that decreases just slightly. With work and things it can be a little hard to balance it all. Thanks again for the reviews, follows, and favourites. You've all amazing! Especially you serial commenters. You know who you are.

Tempting the Fates

Chapter Eight

Bob and Blood

Percy

Being a dining experience for monsters in Tartarus wasn't exactly how Percy had expected to spend his school vacation.

Not that he'd exactly attended the majority of his sophomore year of high school. Having his memory wiped and listlessly wandering on the opposite side of the country tailgated by monsters was a fairly reasonable excuse for not having shown up to class. At least, in his book. What his mom had told his teachers was a mystery— and then there was the whole fact of his mother. She was going to murder him.

Anyway.

Adding the checklist of Shit That Life Has Dealt Percy Jackson now included losing his marbles, getting a tattoo, falling to Tartarus, and being partially consumed by monsters, and then being completely sightless while held down presumably still in Tartarus and those things only touched upon his nearly 17 years of existence. Who even knew what life would throw at him before his 18th.

When he gained his sight back, he almost wished that he hadn't. Though his throat stung from the incomprehensible screams torn passed it as he came through (he couldn't see but he felt trapped), he hardly wanted to stop.

Another tick in that box was waking up held down in a running river of blood by a Titan while the son of Hades tried to force-feed the metallic liquid down his throat. At first he was convinced it was some kind of nightmare but the liquid was too thick and he was choking on it.

That's when he started screaming and kicking and throwing one massive demigod strop— all of which while not dignified was deserved.

"Let go of me! Holy shit… blood… What is this? No, don't! Please! Let me out. Oh gods, blood. This whole river— it's not a river. It's blood."

Nico had to see sense and for a moment he thought the boy would come to save him as his eyes adjusted he realised that Nico was covered. Blood dripped from his hair, soaked his clothing, caked on his skin and under his fingers. He came at him not to save him but to cover him, too.

Clamping his mouth shut, he ignored the stabbing pain in his side as he struggled though it stole his breath, or the way his shoulder stung as his left arm felt heavy and unusable. Nico's fingers pried open his mouth and dumped another handful down his throat.

Spitting it out, it spattered across Nico's face and he took pleasure in the clouds that crossed the other demigod's face.

He'd been tricked. He knew that much. And he hardly wanted to hear whatever lame excuses the son of Hades had to offer when all he knew was that he was being held against his will in a river of gore and he wanted the fuck out. But Bob was such a surprise even his kicking and flailing had to come to a stop. It was almost on accident he accepted the last few mouthfuls of blood, gagging and nearly wretching with each, until the weakness in his side and his shoulder lifted. Hiking the tattered shirt up, he conducted his own self assessment and though the flesh looked abnormal— sickly white like it lacked blood flow— it was at least knitted together and no longer a wound.

Dropping down on the banks, he laid staring up at the dark haze, hands behind his head. The fact that it was glass barely mattered to him. Tartarus was a predator and they were going to bleed no matter what they did. At least the glass wasn't nearly as sharp as the empousai's talons or teeth.

Percy's breathing was hard but he shook his head and closed his eyes. Maybe he could will the blood away. When he opened them he didn't see it. This brought him little comfort. The river looked like a river but that was just the mist. A trick of his eyes. He couldn't unsee what he had seen or untaste what he had tasted.

Another tick for the AwfulTerribleWorstDayEver category.

When Percy had finally questioned which direction, Nico who was both sullen and quiet, cast a look rather than responding.

Bob, who had taken to sweeping the immediate vicinity, hoisted the broom over his shoulder as tapped a meaty finger against his lips.

"That depends."

"Depends on what?" He found himself asking though his gut told him he wouldn't want to answer.

"Quick or slow. How soon would you like to die?"

Well that was a pleasant thought. Sitting up, Percy picked a few shards of glass that had shallowly embedded in his skin and dropped them on the ground. Wherever they were there was blood. Blood from his body. Blood in the river. Blood on his clothes or in his mouth. Each shard around him faintly stained in blood.

Nico sat feet away unmoving.

"Which way is the quickest to the Doors of Death. Do you know where they are, Bob?"

The demigod and the Titan pointed in the same direction.

"I don't even want to know how you know," he scowled at Nico who, while silent, wouldn't meet his eyes.

"All monsters know," the younger man bit back and pushed himself to his feet. "Let's get moving, Bob. The screams of those monsters and our blood— we're probably a big neon sign shouting 'over here, free dinner!'"

"Free dinner? Where!?" Bob chirped excitedly.

Cleaning supplies on his belt bobbed in time to his gait. Every atom in his body was currently shouting fuck this but Percy knew that was unreasonable. He wouldn't last a second in Tartarus on his own and as much as he was pissed off at Nico for tricking him, he wasn't dumb enough to discount the fact that monsters weren't all that far away from them. In fact, he was pretty sure he could hear something less than pleasant in the distance. He'd only missed it before because he was engrossed in some very serious glowering.

Trudging behind, Percy didn't miss the glance the other halfblood cast over his shoulder.

Yeah, yeah. I'm following. Doesn't mean I like it. Or you right now for that matter.

Was it unreasonable? Percy wasn't sure but he didn't want to spend time thinking about it. Because then he would have to wonder what Annabeth would have thought or done and if she would be mad at Nico for doing something as simple as keeping him alive.

But it's not that simple. He lied to me. Or lied by omission… that's the same thing. And that's a betrayal. Chalk that up to a kid of Hades' always thinking he knows best. Why would we tell Percy who he really was? Why would we tell him he's currently bathing and drinking blood? Both of those things are on a need to know basis and my name clearly didn't make the list.

Blood boiling, Percy stewed silently following from a few feet behind.

Was that in his own best interest in terms of safety? Probably not.

But he deserved a little time to feel sorry for himself for three thousand and seven things he had been bottling up since even before this ridiculous quest.

For as silent as he was crossing the terrain, he couldn't help but overhear the conversation in front of them.

"He's not mad at you, Bob. He's just upset with me. Things haven't been easy on him and… m-maybe I didn't do the right thing by him. I thought I was but sometimes it's impossible. Balancing the good of everyone over the good of someone. Especially someone you care about."

Nico nearly fell over himself as a massive hand clapped on his shoulder but the younger boy didn't flinch. Instead he skilfully threw his other foot out and caught himself before he could land face first. He even landed with an odd sort of grace.

Percy begrudged him even that.

"Can I help?"

"I don't think so, buddy. This one's on me."

A few moments passed in relative silence. Well, what could be counted as silence when there was a constant background rushing of air in one direction and another, and a whoosh of something he couldn't quite place. Then there was the weighted foot steps of Bob clomping along. Still, Percy wouldn't exactly class Tartarus as full of noise. It was like walking down a deserted lane in the middle of the night— you always thought you heard something but you were never quite sure what.

It was less than a shock to the threesome when a charging mass of telkhines swarmed them. It was like they'd said, the screams were loud and their blood left a trail. With the help of Bob, the young demigods cleared them out quickly leaving little more than piles of dust behind. Even that was swept up and away by Bob who took to shoving the mess off the bank of the Phlegethon and let it scatter out into the air.

None of them were hurt, least not as badly as Percy had been earlier— but he was on high alert now, not going to let himself do something so selfish lest he wind up in the care of the Italian— but Nico was woozy on his feet.

"What's wrong?" Percy finally broke the silence between the two.

Dark eyes widened as they scanned in his direction but took longer than was normal to focus on Percy.

"Just… tired. That's all."

The son of the sea god was just about to reply when Nico's eyes rolled into the back of his head. Before he could dart forward to catch the younger man, Bob appeared at his side and scooped him up.

Percy had to remind himself he didn't need to draw riptide. Soon, the two fell into footsteps next to one another. As much as he wanted to remain furious for the trickery, he couldn't hold a grudge against a boy who'd fainted from any number of forgivable things: exhaustion, malnutrition, the psychological toll of not one but two trips to Tartarus, juggling what amounted to a crap situation no matter what road he took. Yeah, he could forgive that.

The Ghost King was slumped over Bob the Titan's shoulder. The two were trudging through the field of yet-to-be-reborn-monsters, cautious eyes picking the path ahead of them. Fortunately, Bob seemed to know exactly where he was going. It only took him a moment of careful consideration before forging forward. Percy wondered if maybe he had some kind of sense of which pustules were closest to popping.

This will make a story to tell. So I was travelling through Tartarus with a friendly Titan— no really— and a child of Hades who basically wants to steal my girlfriend from me the way Piper tells it. And as if Tartarus isn't tragic enough, the landscape is actually Tartarus's skin and he needs some Nivea or Clearasil because the blackheads on this guy are so festering they pop monsters.

As if anyone would ever believe him.

With an attentive sea green eye on the Titan travelling next to him, he turned to face him when he spoke.

"Nico said I would see you again. He said Percy was very busy and couldn't visit but he said you asked about me. I thought that was very nice. Sometimes I wondered if you forgot me."

Tottering over a tiny bubble in the ground, Percy inadvertently killed a monster before it had really started to form and nearly landed on his face in the process. Getting his wits about him, he brushed himself off and sighed inwardly.

Smooth move. Thank god Nico is out.

"Y-yeah. I mean, I wondered if you were okay. Things up top can be crazy… I'm sure you know about the war. And then I was brainwashed and didn't even remember who I was or who anyone was for awhile. So I did forget you, Big Dude, but not on purpose. I remember everything now."

Except even when he had remembered it had been more of a laugh and a joke. Way to get a one-up on Iapetus and convince a Titan that he was a friendly clean freak named Bob. What a laugh bathing in the River Lethe was and did you hear? He even took a job in the court of Hades. From the way the broom was slung over his back in a specialised holder and the tool belt around his waist with various cleaning products, he had taken to the life of Underworld Janitor with gusto. Hopefully he was happier that way. The son of Poseidon had only wondered briefly every now and again, but he hadn't imagined visiting the pitiful result of a mission.

"That's okay. As long as you are you now, and you are my friend."

"Yeah, Bob. Definitely friends."

Note to self, ask Nico exactly what was said about me to Bob later. And more importantly why.

The further away from the cliff face they wandered, the more pitted the plateau was and it became impossible to bypass the infested bedrock. And that meant one thing and one thing only— climbing over what equated to giant zits on who even knew what portion of a physical demonstration of a deity.

"He worries about you. And he worries about me."

For a second he could swear that Iapetus— strike that, Bob— cuddled the halfblooded teenager just a little bit closer with a sort of effect ion. The observation wasn't expected. One, because it was from a Titan and two, because the Ghost King toed the threshold never taking part. He was elusive and emotionally eschew in the best of situations. And maybe sometimes Percy forgot that he was just a teenage boy with a troubled childhood worse than Percy's. Sitting on the fence because he didn't fit in wasn't exactly his fault when no one invited him.

Swallowing hard, Percy began the nervous clicking in and out of riptide. Pen. Sword. Pen. Sword. Pensword. Swordpen. Penswordpensword.

"Why do you say that?" Casting a glance over to the Titan, Bob looked down at the boy in his arms.

Pale, underweight and malnourished, purple bruises under each eye and yet still as he was without contempt chiseled on his face, eyes blazing black and bitter, he was innocent. Bob smoothed a hand twice the size of a ham over his unkempt hair.

"Bob can just tell."

Remaining silent, in part because he was hoisting himself over another massive pustule and hoping its contents wouldn't burst and cover him in what amounted to demon discharge, he nodded for the Titan to continue.

"It's the sadness that stays for days and days. Or the stories that he tells. Nico has many stories but I know he saves the happy ones for me. Bob thinks there are many sad stories. He is lonely, like me. But there are many good things to tell. Many stories about you and your hero friends…" Bob paused, stopping where he stood. Once more he looked down at the young demigod in his arms. "Nico is kind but he is different, like me. We—" from the way he shifted his weight back and forth from one foot to the other and the colouring of his cheeks (were Titans even physically capable of blushing? This had to be a first) it was clear he didn't want to offend Percy.

"Go on, Bob. I really want to know."

That was truthful at least. When was the last time someone got any kind of meaningful insight from a Titan? I could probably write a book. Annabeth would be so jealous.

"Outsiders. What we want to be part of is not so easy. He idolises you and maybe envies. But the stories… they are happy but even the ones he is part of are… Bob just wonders. Why is he always lonely when he has so many heroic friends?"

Slack jawed, Percy scratched at the back of his neck. Words were lost to him, his voice tugged down by the weight of the gravity in Tartarus.

The responsibility of responding was removed from his shoulders when Nico began stirring. Limbs flopped around like fish out of water and the whimper— no the mewl— was quite literally incredible. Nico di Angelo was feline without even realising it. He was like a tiny kitten— well a kitten that could call countless ghosts to his side and very likely kill everything in his path.

When obsidian eyes opened once more, he blinked a few times oblivious to what was happening. The shock that registered on his features as he looked up and then over at Percy with whom he was eye level with, caused him to flop out of Bob's arms as if he suddenly went spineless before all the rigidity and hardness set back in. Whatever wall had come down was back up.

"Well hello sleeping beauty, you fainted."

"I did not faint! I just— I was tired. I passed out. I haven't slept in probably a month and…"

The words died on his lips as Percy rolled his eyes and laughed. "You fainted."

"Shut up, eel for brains! I did not faint!"

"What type of eels? Are they electric? Because then they'd be bright." Percy laughed at his own joke.

Bob held Nico back as the younger demigod struggled forward, hands outstretched intent on throttling the son of Poseidon to death.