Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and no $$ has been made off of my little hobby.

AN: Thank you for your patience! You've asked and I've responded- another Percy/Nico chapter. I'm a little disappointed I didn't get quite as many comments but lots of people favourited or followed so I'll take that as hopefully you're all still enjoying the story! We're at the 70k word mark, guys! That's ridiculous. Thank you so much for keeping tuned in like you have. I really appreciate it. :) And as always, please R&R! It may motivate me to post another chapter this weekend.

Tempting the Fates

Chapter Twenty Seven

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

Percy

Good. That word was so foreign to him because when was the last time anything had really been good? He couldn't remember and maybe (creeping around the edge of his thoughts), just maybe, it never had been. Perhaps things had always been bleak and bad and stretching on and on and on… he shook the thought away. Sitting up slowly, the demigod blinked sleep from his eyes. Waking for the second time in the massive bed had surprised him even after the sound sleep because good wasn't something that happened. Not down here.

Something had woken Percy but he wasn't too sure what; his brain, soft with sleep and not yet at full speed, was having trouble catching up. Long limbs stretched out letting the blood flow once more. After a few seconds of popping his back, cracking his neck and stretching out every limb he realised something was missing. There was no throbbing in his shoulder or side and the muscles felt more at ease. The pain was gone to his chest but the weight was present, hollowing and tugging, but his lungs were his own again and Percy could breathe without the pressure of the whole world pressing down on him like Atlas.

For a few moments the world was not terrible. Naturally, Percy was convinced that he must still be sleeping or dreaming because the concept was completely unrealistic. But then he looked down to the warmth at his side and tucked up under the mismatched patchwork quilt (made out of some kind of furry monster hyde— he wasn't really sure what kind but it was strangely soft and reminded him of bunnies, especially the occasional ear popping out) with back pressed to his side was a dark bundle.

The child of Hades was knobbly knees, elbows sticking out everywhere, dark hair curling up in every possible direction and long ebony lashes fanning across skin so pale it was nearly translucent like snow. But he faced out, toward the door and toward danger, with his sword clutched against himself as a kid just a few year's younger would cuddle a teddy bear.

The breath caught in his throat and he knew that he'd fallen asleep trying to keep watch and make sure his friend was okay and no danger came.

There's still good in the world, he reminded himself. And that good was laying right next to him and was he… yeah, he was pretty sure that Nico was sucking on his thumb. The sight was such a stark contrast to the rest of Tartarus that he couldn't help it: he burst at the seams and he laughed until tears were stinging his eyes. Nico jumped, Percy's hand affectionately combing through his hair.

"Wh—what! Are we being attacked? Are you okay!? Gods… what's wrong with you!?" The rumble that came from deep in Nico's throat sent a shiver up Percy's spine (and yet he just kept laughing because he'd started and he couldn't stop and fuck knew when he'd be laughing again) reminding him just how much the other half blood had grown up in his absence. The darkness came off him in waves, smoke nearly coming from his ears, and he couldn't help it. He clutched his sides and fell over, half draped across Nico's lap as the tears kept falling.

"It hurts!" He hiccuped clinging to his sides.

Emotions were a landslide across the younger man's face, pushing aside the death glare that was threatening to turn Percy to stone for having interrupted the other's sleep. "Where?"

It took less than a second for long fingers to probe their way beyond Percy's shredded shirt and search out every bandage attempting to uncover where exactly the other was wounded. For every bandage removed pale skin showed relatively unharmed save for the silver gleam of scarring over the healthy skin. They were lissome and soft in their prodding and the faint slide of fingers over his skin caused another fit of hiccups— Percy was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe or really laugh for that matter.

"S-sides!" He gulped trying to swallow precious air. The fact his sides were exhausted and splitting from something so trivial wasn't making it through Nico's thick skull because the other was still checking him over, dark brows knit in concentration. When they stopped moving, it was only because there was nothing the matter and the frigid look like permafrost penetrating the ground, made Percy snicker a little harder.

"You… you're not hurt?" The confusion was clear.

He shook his head, clutching to his sides and wiping tears from his eyes.

"Y-you… thumb! Sucking… y-your thumb! Gods, Neeks, you're too cute for words."

"Sto per ucciderti!"

The son of Poseidon didn't need to speak Italian to understand that the child of Hades very well might run his Stygian sword through him. Instead, he simply punched the other's shoulder repeatedly and threw him off his lap causing Percy to nearly roll onto the floor.

"Stronzo! Ti odio così tanto!"

When his breathing was steady once more, he lay stretched out across the bed grinning up at the other boy who was visibly simmering.

"Why did I save you?"

"Because the fate of the world depended on it. And I'm pretty amazing, that doesn't hurt either." The smile he flashed Nico was the biggest and brightest he had; the other half blood withered under his gaze. Pushing the blankets aside, Nico slipped from the bed and to his feet, turning away.

"Healthy sense of self importance you've got there, huh, Perce? Don't think too much of yourself or anything, do you?"

"Well compared to the fine specimens occupying Tartarus, I'd say you and I are shoo-ins for best looking. You'll definitely make number one most eligible bachelor."

A second later a pillow connected with his face— hard— and he shut up.

Nico attempted to talk their host into coming with them but Damasen refused and that wasn't to say that the other boy hadn't been convincing because he had been. There were plenty of reasons for Damasen to leave behind his lair and the daily fight with the Drakon that served as his never ending punishment.

"Please. I know we have nothing to offer you in the way of payment for taking care of us and helping us but it's a debt we'd like to repay. And if you come with us, you could get out, Damasen. Come with us, please."

"Please, friend. Just think… there is sky. It's been so long since I have seen the sky."

"And I. I do miss those— what are they called? Twinkles. The ones in the dark from above."

"Stars," Nico supplied.

"And the warmth on your face with the breeze looking up at the sun. Remember warmth, Damasen? Not heat but warmth and light?"

"It's like a dream, so many lifetimes ago."

"But it's not a dream. You could have that again, everything that was taken away from you. You could help us fight Gaea and when we win, you'd be free to go as you please. Our fathers will not punish you."

He had sighed and thought but in the end he had been moved but not persuaded. Instead he had sat them down and provided them with drakon skin clothing to replace the rags they were wearing. Nico had insisted on disappearing into the shadows behind a pile of junk to change, then again the boy hadn't exactly been exposed to high school PE and the locker room. Boy, he'd have a shock there because there were no boundaries. The discarded tshirt was tossed into a pile of rags— Damasen let nothing go to waste— and Percy felt a little badly for it.

How many things did Nico actually own? And it'd been destroyed again. When the boy reappeared he was wearing a drakon skin shirt and patchwork pants (probably the most ridiculous look the other had ever worn, especially considering it was a deep green and very far from the black he was comfortable with), but his bomber jacket was on top looking a little worse for wear. There was a drakon skin patch over one of the elbows.

Damasen had fed them and for the second time, Percy had a fully belly. He sent them along with a bundle of drakon jerky, a container of stew, and some of the broth Nico had fed Percy when he hadn't been well. It wouldn't last long but where they were going it would help keep their spirits more than it would help to heal. Percy couldn't really understand how that would be all that important as everything was shit in Tartarus so how could it be any more or less shit?

Wow. Was he wrong.

Percy and Nico followed Bob staying as close as they could what with the other's massively long legs which navigated the terrain more easily leaving the two to scramble in an attempt to keep up. The further they traveled the colder he felt, the darkness becoming thicker. Atramentous. Soon his lips were peeling, chapped and dry, the skin chafing as he tried to swallow and his tongue felt thick in his mouth. Between them, Nico and Percy shared a sip of the broth every now and again, trading it silently between them. More and more frequently their fingertips brushed as they passed the container back and forth but Nico, normally cagey at the best of times, did not pull his hand away like he'd been burned (and under normal circumstances he definitely would have so maybe the boy needed some human contact just as badly as Percy did then).

"Hurry. We must be quick. We have to get to her before they find you," Bob urged up ahead. Small Bob had nestled himself into the front of his coveralls completely disappeared proving, yet again, that he was the most clever of all of them.

Of course he's the most clever. He's not exactly on a suicide mission now is he?

The thoughts seeped into his mind, echoing the darkness around him. The further they traveled the more opaque Percy felt to his core, dark and anger and malicious spreading. It was like an oil tanker misjudging and tearing open its belly on the rocky ocean floor below, spewing its contents into the sea, polluting everything. It coated every pore suffocating and destroying. When he took another sip of the drink, it warmed him just a little and the demigod mustered up all the strength he had to push the melancholy aside and think of what lay beyond the Doors of Death.

Annabeth and her golden hair shining in the sun. Cool breezes and bottles of Mountain Dew Blue Lightning. His mother and Paul probably worried sick about him (since he hadn't exactly had time for the whole 'hey, I've been found and I remember' thing), but still willing to make him blue pancakes and a massive blue cake. Camp Half Blood and Camp Jupiter with all of the possibilities. The holiday that he and Annabeth had promised one another they would take though it felt impossibly long ago…

Maybe it wasn't real. Maybe this is it… this hell. It's pointless anyway, even if it were, because we won't make it. We can't make it. Not out of here.

It didn't surprise him that the next motion forward he made, he fumbled in his step and nearly fell to the ground. Nico's hand was on him in an instant, shooting out from his side and grabbing hold of his arm holding tight around his bicep. With a strength he couldn't have imagined the boy had, he yanked him up and kept him standing.

"Don't," was all he said and his dark eyes were smouldering, obsidian. Percy didn't question but not-so-smoothly choked on his own tongue. The other just glared.

And that's when they were attacked.

A hellhound jumped down from one of the craggy boulders jutting up from the ground next to them. He landed in front of them, growling and eyes glowing a deep red; he reminded Percy nothing of Mrs O'Leary. The demon cut them off from Bob, who was ahead and turned around. Small Bob was bristling up out of the coveralls and landed on his feet, spiking up and growing larger as he hissed at the canine.

"Watch out!" Nico yelled as the hound turned around and a moment later Small Bob launched himself at it and they disappeared in a cloud of dust and screams. There was no moment to rest (either from relief or worry) as paws started showering down around them, a whole heard of hell hounds soon surrounding them.

"Oh fuck me," the younger boy whispered and it was almost a comical thing in that moment because all Percy could think was that he'd never heard the boy swear like that before.

All things considered, he was shocked it hadn't happened a little sooner.

Growling, dripping jaws surrounded them, fur bristling as they barked and slobbered rivers of drool soon running at their feet. Anaklusmos was uncapped, growing in an instant. Nico had his Stygian sword drawn and was readying himself into battle stance. There was a moment of stillness where no one moved a muscle, not even Bob with his broom.

Then the picture came apart at the seems.

Three of the hellhounds— his ADHD had kicked in and he was able to estimate there were about twenty in total and from the quieter growling up above, he was willing to bet that wasn't all of the herd down there as there might actually be some hellhound pups in the wings— launched themselves forward at once. They ranged in size from a minivan to a small school bus and smelled even worse than burning diesel and dumpsters baking in the hot afternoon. Percy would have wanted to throw up if he wasn't busy slashing Riptide and rolling out of the way so he wasn't levelled by the monster.

Bob was conflicted, not wanting to hurt the animals, but not willing to be made a lunchable either. Nico was lost to him already, disappearing somewhere in the dark as he threw himself forward and back, jumping and dodging as he, too, slashed with his sword.

There were too many of them and they didn't wait, not like in action movies where they came one at a time replacing another as they fell. No, they descended like a dark cloud with many heads and eyes, hot breath everywhere. Percy was liquid, every movement fast and free flowing like a waterfall and he was crashing down on them but they were a stronger current.

It started as just one slash, being a little too slow and getting batted to the side by a massive paw, but he was able to keep the momentum to his favour by tucking and rolling out of it. He landed on his feet once more with Riptide at the ready and sent one of them back to dust a moment later but more were on him just as quickly. His reflexes had kicked in and he was a storm, moving like a hundred handed one though he only had two of his own they were everywhere. The next occasion, there were two of them baring down and as he ducked from one, the other lunged and the hellhound closed its teeth around his left arm.

Percy snatched it away just in time to avoid losing the limb entirely but it was slightly crushed and hurt like a son of a bitch. That only fuelled his anger at the whole situation and the calculating part of his mind was wondering when the giants would catch up because they would and they couldn't be long gone, unless Damasen had managed to throw them off the chase somehow. Maybe confuse them (that wouldn't be a difficult feat in the least).

For a moment he thought maybe they were doing alright and that between all of them they'd manage but that was before he got a little too close to the overhang. And before one of the hellhounds plummeted down from above crashing Percy to the ground like a wave and pummelling him. The hellhound huffed, its breath scalding and sickeningly sweet. In fact, he was pretty sure (as concussed as he probably was at that second because the back of his head was throbbing and he'd cracked it on a rock or a bone or something equally hard) there was a rancid piece of demigod flesh stuck between its teeth. Then again that might have actually been a whole leg at one time now partially digested and… was that a sneaker?

Not that it mattered much, the darkness whispered to him. It was always going to come to this and now he didn't have to worry about when it would end because it was ending now and it would be over.

"Percy?" He heard from far away. Nico's voice rose in pitch, but the half blood couldn't find his voice to respond. "Percy? PERCY!?" Despondence rang in his voice drown out by the growls of the hellhounds.

Riptide was somewhere out of reach of his fingers…

The growling swelled, growing in volume as the hellhounds circled. They swelled, howls of triumph had at the downing of a demigod and who knew what had happened to Bob or Nico? He couldn't see either of them.

As if answering (before the hellhound closed its jaws over his face), someone or something bellowed and it echoed through the air, guttural and raw. It sent chills up his spine and goosebumps across his skin. Pressure built in the air then and there was a strange whistling in his ears, deep inside himself he could feel pieces of him moving and shifting, compressing and moving in ways he wouldn't want them to.

What's happening? Was all he had time to think.

No longer concerned with the hellhound over him, he clung to himself trying to hold his insides where they were.

That's when the hellhounds howls died down to whimpers before building in pitch, the sounds coming from them were horrific. They bubbled and gurgled and shrieked like dying mice but so much louder. Even with the compression inside he had to clap his hands over his ears because he couldn't take hearing it another second, those pitiful sounds reverberating in the air boring through his skull.

The hellhound over him spasmed and burst into dust. He sat up slowly and looked around and one hellhound at a time did the same. Their eyes bulged out, tongues lolled to the side and they were torn apart from the inside by… nothing. But then they were gone.

And after a minute all that was left was Nico stood some ways away, dripping sweat, dark curls matted to his head and his face. His hands were clenched and he was trembling. A final hellhound fell from above, landing in front of him and before it had a chance to so much as wag it's tail the boy snarled and the thing ripped itself to shreds in front of him.

Nico stood heaving, his body trembling like the earth itself was unsteady but really it was just his legs turning to jelly. Moisture glinted in his eyes, streaming down his face. His eyes were hollow when they caught sight of Percy and his shoulders raised, resting a little easier. "Percy," he murmured the word barely carrying.

The Ghost King collapsed to the ground and the pressure dissipated leaving Percy's insides feeling normal once more.