Tempting the Fates

Chapter Twenty Four

Styx and Stygian

Nico

"Why didn't you tell me?"

It was the question that Nico knew eventually he would be responsible for answering. So when it was out in the open, he was unsurprised. It had been a long time coming.

Bob's silver eyes were fixed on him. In his left hand, he twirled his broom around and around; it was the first time the son of Hades had witness the Titan fidgeting. His expression was open and expectant waiting for Nico to tell him a story: the truth or otherwise.

It had always been coming to this.

But now with the arai dispatched and their virulent essence pulsing in the air— they were just as dark and dangerous even without a tangible form— he had the world's worst headache and he didn't have it in him to dance around the subject. He'd be damned if his skull wasn't cracking down the centre like a rotting egg. Nico's brain felt too much like it was swelling and the pressure building against the backs of his eyes was unreal— he wouldn't be surprised if one of his eyes popped out. Literally, his palms were pressing against them trying to keep the contents of his skull in lest it spill out on the ground in front of them and while he'd seen plenty of gruesome things he just couldn't bring himself to have to live with that one particular experience.

The silence was gone but in its place agony was enough that his empty stomach was cramping, bile presenting itself in the back of his throat. Half coughing, half swallowing, he cleared his throat.

"We all make mistakes, Bob. We shouldn't have to keep paying for them over and over again." Hunching over, he rested one hand on his knee while the other pressed hard enough against his eyelids that he saw starbursts on the back of both lids. Every beat of his heart was a supernova and even the depths of Tartarus was too bright.

"He made the best decision he could with what he had to work with at the time. Bob, you're amazing. A great friend and a good listener and honestly you're one of the only people who understands what it's like sometimes…" The words fell from his lips as he swallowed the bile trying to anchor himself and fight the ice that was threatening to conquer the oppressive heat of the pit. A shiver was working its way up his tired limbs (they were always fatigued lately; he just couldn't shake it) and the ground was looking more and more welcoming.

C'mon, Nico. You've got to pull yourself together. Percy… he's not doing too well. We have to do something for him. Check to see if he's okay— what if he's— no, you can't think that way. Gotta do something.

Nico forced himself to stand and removed the hand from his eyes, opening them once more. Bob was frowning, chewing on the end of his broom handle much like it was a pencil. It was oddly like Mrs O'Leary and her chew toys.

"Bob, you're amazing but Iapetus wasn't amazing. He tried to kill Percy and so he had to make a choice: die or let him forget who he was. And then we got you, Bob, and I don't think for a second that was a mistake. This… this is a mistake." Holding his arms out to either side of his body, he motioned to the whole ridiculous situation. Percy laying where he was in, injured and likely dying. Nico stood before a Titan arguing the validity and necessity of an unspeakable evil: ripping away who someone was. Bob, not Tartarus or Gaia, being the one to ultimately tilt the scales one way or another at that second because he had a choice: whether to believe Nico and help them, or to scorn his only true friend and leave them both to expire. "It should have been him to tell you. I hoped someday that he would but…"

Sucking in a deep breath, he held it within his lungs until they burned hoping that the lack of movement might help to calm his stomach. Or, better yet, choking off the oxygen to his brain would go at least a little way towards shutting his brain down and deadening the tension.

With what energy he could muster, he dropped down beside Percy and tilted his head, ear over the boy's mouth. He couldn't hear anything but the faint wisp of air tickling at his ear let him know that the son of the sea was still living.

Tears burned at his eyes as he clutched the older demigod to him, lifting him from where he lay, blood pooling from a wound. The shirt he had borrowed from Nico was now also ripped to shreds in the same area and pushing the fabric aside, he could see the irritation as the Gorgon poison spread to the skin around it causing boils and a sort of weeping. It was deep, on the back of his shoulder going down toward the muscle. Even if he had ambrosia to feed the other, there was no way it would mend the wound fast enough or well enough for the other to be able to use his sword arm with any sort of accuracy.

What am I supposed to do? I-I… I have no idea what to do. I'm not strong enough to carry him, not right now.

The boy squeezed his eyes shut, trying to quiet the noise in his head but there was no spool to unravel or mystery to solve: the situation was exactly as it presented itself. And it was vacuous and they'd be left wanting.

He was always left wanting. His whole life, no one had ever offered to help sate his needs. He had been torn from his mother, deprived of his sister, estranged from the mortal realm only to be isolated from the half bloods. Always different always separate. Always apart and never enough. And no matter how many times he assisted the gods, his father included, his fortune did not change. Nico di Angelo was destined to pine for one who could never love him back and while he stomached it, he could not stand to be put any lower. There was never thanks and he couldn't keep shouldering these weights all by himself.

"WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO ABOUT THIS!? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? HAVEN'T YOU ALREADY TAKEN EVERYTHING!? I HAVE NOTHING! WOULD YOU TAKE THIS FROM ME, TOO?" Clinging to Percy, he rocked the boy in his arms, inhaling the gentle scent of the sea. How it remained, he didn't know, not after days in Tartarus bathed in the ichor of monsters and water of blood and their own sweat and fears. Nico's shoulders collapsed into himself, bringing himself like a shield around the other. "You can't take him," he whispered.

A tear slipped past his lashes and fell down his face, dropping and disappearing into the dark mass of hair at the top of Percy's head. "H-how am I supposed to get him to you? How can he help save the world again if he isn't there? Dad… dad, please if you can hear me, if you're listening, please. This one thing for me, please. Zeus, Poseidon, anyone… j-just this one thing. Please."

The silence stretched on and in his delirium, Percy coughed, choking on his own tongue and for a second there was a gurgling in the back of his throat. Nico's heart stopped afraid the man he held's heart had done the same but after a few seconds there was another gentle stirring of the air and he knew the hero lived, even if it might not be for long.

"Scegli me. Si prega di scegliere me al suo posto." The words fell from his lips faster than the salt from his eyes.

Ho sentito la tua preghiera e io risponderò. Non ti preoccupare ragazzino. Riceverai il mio aiuto. Ma ci sarà una condizione. Ora fretta, prima che è al di là di aiuto.

The words sprang to mind like a fountain in the forest. They were gentle and flowed, cooling the heat of his anger and calming the stirring in his chest.

The air shuddered from his lungs and it wasn't until he felt the massive hand of the Titan on his shoulder and recognised the purring of the undead monster kitten that everything snapped back into focus.

"Come. Bob knows someone who may be able to help."

Nico scurried to his feet, swiping the back of his hand across the damp of his eyes. Percy was cradled in Bob's arms like an infant.

Thank you, he thought to himself.

Though he couldn't be sure who might be watching over him, he knew deep in his gut that ultimately he would give them whatever they asked for so long as they could give him what he wanted: Percy's passage out.

—

After that, things had gotten tricky— he had struggled to keep up with Bob's much longer strides but he hadn't complained. The air had thickened, black clouds around them, and it was hard to see more than a few feet in front of his own face. The son of the Underworld jogged as best he could trying to keep pace so as not to lose the Titan's silver bobbing head lest he lose his way.

The terrain grew harder and harder for him to travel across and the swamp… the swamp was a whole different story. It stank and he'd lost a shoe at some point (not that it mattered, really, what the fuck was a doc martin in the grand scheme of things? But no, really, they had been his favorite pair), been sucked down and nearly swallowed on more than one occasion and that was before even discussing what lived in the swamp. Because was lived in the swamp were the types of creepy crawlies that made the ghoulies and demons from his father's realm look much like Small Bob: tame and unassuming.

All the while his heart was hammering in his ears echoing the sound of his breathing until it was a cacophony boring into his skull. A giant… that had seemed insane but at this point Nico would take any kind of irresponsible if it would save the other. He'd shook his head, ignoring the dark stringy strands of hair as they'd fallen across his vision and reassured Bob that it didn't matter: Damasen would help or he wouldn't. There was nothing more than that at this point. Just hopes and long shots. That was all they'd had this whole time.

Honestly? When the giant had nearly consumed the two half bloods, Nico was nearly relieved. At this point it wasn't a matter of if it would end but when it would end and he was growing so weary. The first sight he'd had of himself since this whole fucking mess was in a reflection in the giant's surprisingly cozy home and Hades' child couldn't even find it in him to be surprised by the streak of grey streaking a section of his dark hair. Everything about this place was wrong.

It had nearly been too late. But not quite. Damasen had offered a potion of herbs and plants and vegetables and some other various components he couldn't easily identify. Nico had used the last of his strength and composure to put the other man to bed, tucked up and safe, where he slipped behind him to keep watch. He fed him some of the broth when it was offered stealing only a sip or two for himself— he could deal with whatever malady was already wreaking havoc on his body— and wrapped his arms around Percy's still form. Between the crackling of the fire and the heaviness of his own head, he hadn't meant to but he'd drifted.

"Ho aspettato per voi, semidio. Che cosa ci hai messo tanto?" The dark parted, a curtain to another place and time pushing aside revealing a tall dark figure before him. Her hair flowed passed her shoulders, tied with shells and sea glass, the tendrils always drifting like a current. On her head she wore a crown of waterlilies tied together by reeds. The scent of cool and damp was familiar.

"Tu parli italiano?" Nico stood back, surprised, but then again, it was the least shocking of occurrence in his life. Standing just a little bit taller, he reached for his side his fingers brushing only air where his Stygian blade should have lay at his side. "Chi sei tu? Perché vuoi aiutarmi?"

She ebbed forward, the folds of her dress glowing from within. Fish swam along the hem of her dress and nibbled at other plants and there might have even been tadpoles as well or a frog… it was a little odd and yet she was beautiful. Like the nymphs at Camp Half Blood but not so severe and much stronger. "Io parlo tutte le lingue, perché non può essere facilmente definito da una sola lingua." As she circled around the boy, he flinched back hands at the ready. He might not have his sword but he'd be damned if he went down without getting in a few good hits. "Ti ho conosciuto da prima eri un pensiero nella mente di tua madre. Stavo aspettando anche di più. Siamo simili, piccolo re dei fantasmi. Ma chi sono io non è importante quanto ciò che cercate."

"Cosa cerco?" His eyes narrowed, breathing coming just a little bit faster.

Somewhere inside of him, he was aware that this was just a dream or a vision. His body was elsewhere back in a cabin belonging to a giant he prayed to the gods wasn't going to turn him into some kind of lunchable.

"Figlio delle tenebre, questo è il problema. So cosa azione che si prende. Ho sentito la chiamata e posso rispondere ad essa. Ci sono conseguenze. Avete comprendere che cosa accadrà se si seguono attraverso? Vi è alcun arresto se si decide di iniziare."

The Goddess ebbed and flowed, always nearing and then receding in her proximity to him. Nico circled around her, trying to find any sign of weakness. And if not a weakness then something he could exploit to keep himself breathing just a few seconds longer.

"So quello che sto facendo, io sto facendo questo per qualcuno."

Inside his chest fluttered. Why was she so adamant on asking so many frigging questions? The hairs on the back of Nico's neck stood up, a child whispering its way down the length of his spine. She reached out and he tried to flinch away but found that he could not move though nothing was holding him in place. Her hand surged forward and lapped at his cheek, leaving a tingling in its place. The corners of her mouth turned up in a watery smile placid as a lake.

"Figlio mio, io non sono convinto che si capisce. Siete davvero pronti per questa strada perché non si torna. I destini tracciare le linee della vostra vita. Si può scambiare uno per l'altro. Uno sarà tagliato e uno sarà risparmiato. Possibile per voi di tornare a casa da Tartarus."

Sucking in a breath, he held it for a moment trying not to let his mind jump ahead of itself. There was a catch. Always a catch. The question was— what was it?

"Per tutti e due?"

"Solo per uno di voi."

Nico's head hung for a moment, hair falling across his eyes. They would not meet hers, dark stones that they were amid the cascading water that made up the rest of her. She was beautiful in her own right and maybe it was just the whole elemental thing but she, in a way, reminded him of Percy. Steady and strong but dangerous.

Only one of us, he thought to himself. Another few seconds ticked by with the beating of his own heart. Lifting his hand, he rest it over his chest feeling the thump thump as he sucked in another breath. You're ready.

He met her eyes.

"Io sono il figlio degli Inferi. Vivo con la morte ogni giorno e non ho paura. Capisco. Morte non è qualcosa da temere."

"Fammi sentire lo dici." She smiled and it was not unkind. The changing currents of her face betrayed nothing; she was stoic in her stance.

"Giuro sulla Rivery Stige che io resterò dietro. Se solo uno di noi può lasciare Tartaro, giuro che non sarò io. Farò tutto quanto in mio potere per proteggerlo."

Withdrawing her hand, she moved back and took in the sight of him. Bowing her head, she nodded and just as easily swapped back to English. "You have made an oath to me. A promise is not easily broken, little Ghost King. You will have my help." Holding out her hands, the sleeves of her dress lost little droplets of water to the ground. "In cambio, avrò la vostra vita."

Sucking in a deep breath, Nico nodded.

"I understand."

"I am very sorry for you, Nico di Angelo. Your story does not have a happy ending. There is never a happy ending when there is war. And this war will be bloody, cruel and merciless."

"War always takes children. "But we're demigods. We're more than children."

"You're much more than that, I can see it with my own eyes. I like that about you, son of Hades. You are neither Roman nor Greek , half blood or a god. You are the shadow of each."

"What happens to Percy?"

"I'm afraid that I can't answer that. You have made your oath, but I cannot tell you what may come to pass. I have to go, child of shadows. The giants are coming. They will soon find you if you don't hurry. When you need me, you will find me, and I will have a gift to help you."

She turned her back and just as she entered, moved to part the darkness with the movement of a hand and as she was disappearing through the curtain he shouted after her.

"Promettimi che ti risparmiargli la vita!"

When she turned, he knew then without asking, who his audience had been with. She smiled at him, all the sadness and weight of a river.

"Salva Percy. Sarò sempre lo ha scelto."

"I know, sweet boy."

She was swallowed by the blackness and Nico woke up.

So sorry for the wait! Things have been hectic but I hope to not keep people waiting quite so long before the next chapter is up.

For this chapter I have to apologise as I don't speak Italian. I did my very best between google translate and what I can remember of taking Spanish for a million years but clearly I'm anything but a linguist specialist. I know it will make this chapter a little trickier to read but I really feel like it lends to the ambience of the whole thing.