Tempting The Fates

Chapter Thirty One

Dying Before Death

Percy

Talking was futile at that point so the pair did one of the things that demigods are best at, and that included drawing their weapons and getting ready to kick some butt.

Should have known when she wouldn't let Bob come. That was the first sign. Percy's mind reeled as he drew Riptide. Really, we should have seen this coming. I mean… she's miserable. Of course she was going to spring the whole eternal death and darkness shit on us. Duh, Seaweed Head. Sort of her thing.

His blade felt foreign in his hand, heavier than he remembered it. Then again, he was mostly made of smoke and the son of the sea was having a hard time keeping himself whole, let alone drawing his weapon in any kind of effective manner to protect either himself or Nico.

Nico, looking much worse for wear than Percy— he'd gone from an extra on the Walking Dead to a sinister spectre that could have starred in his very own horror movie, potential trilogy even. If Percy's spine were fully in tact, as in not a dissolving poof of smoke, he might have shivered. As it was, his not quite tangible stomach was caving in on itself.

Akhlys grinned, because as it were, misery loved company, especially juicy demigods she could sink her talons into and feast on their blood. Turns out, ingesting halfbloods was a highly sought commodity in Tartarus that no one was stocking.

"Poseidon's child, such a good vintage!" She screeched.

The Goddess launched herself forward and towards Percy who might as well have been caught in quicksand. He had never been the best on land and here, so far from his element, he struggled. Compounded with the fact that his body was hardly his own— and quickly evaporating into a steaming mass of swirling clouds above them— his blood felt like sap in his veins. Percy attempted to bring down Riptide and slash the sorrowful sack of bones. The movement wasn't fast enough and he found himself thrown aside by Akhlys.

"I will drain you." Standing above him, she grinned in her cracked and weathered leather way, eyes sharp but leaking. Around him, more poisonous plants grew and in their mist, he felt his head going dizzy and vision going unfocused. They were an extra three thousand strength.

"Get away from him!" Nico shouted.

A flash out of the corner of Percy's eye caught his attention. The son of Hades pounced on the goddess, his Stygian sword in his hand. Unlike his companion, he had no trouble moving with his new phantom form. The mist had stopped seeping from him, composed in the area around himself. Like planets gravitated around the sun, Nico's mist coiled around himself, no longer fleeing the way that Percy's continued. He had never been more made of shadows than in that moment, brandishing his blade, cracking it against Misery's claws, flitting around her at impossible speeds. Nico was a dark silhouette, streaking from position to position. Like a hummingbird made of mist and shadow.

Maybe it was from all the shadow travelling but the boy was moving better without a real body than he did with one.

Does shadow travelling actually make you a shadow? Or just moving shadows? He wondered distantly only to have that followed by, What does it matter? You're going to die. You're just delaying the inevitable. Jeez. He was sounding more and more like Depressingly Self Indulgent over there.

Back on his feet once more— which was awkward because he could barely control (let alone feel) his feet— Percy clutched Riptide again. Nico was a flash, flitting everywhere but Misery was everywhere. Here, in her domain, she was everything, and there was no escaping her. Still, Nico tried. He was fast but she was faster… with a little more practice maybe he could have done more. Even though he got in a few good whacks— she was now bleeding from both arms, was missing a pinky finger, and had a gapping wound on her left ankle— hit for hit she was getting more. The drakon hyde was torn and he might have been bleeding if his spectral form could have done so, as it were, he looked like one of his own dead warriors called into battle to help defeat Kronos.

Even surrounded by death mist, power came off him dark in waves. Nico was extraordinary.

He slashed again and she howled, a chunk of her dead hair falling to the ground. She definitely needed a haircut but the uneven bob harshened her emaciated face. Or maybe that was the extra rivulets of blood mixing with the sludge oozing from her nose… Akhlys threw herself forward, pressing quicker. She just wouldn't tire. She shouted something along the lines of never having suffered such a terrible haircut in all of her (un)life.

"I'll have you know I cut my own hair!" The words dripped venom, from clenched teeth.

"Do you?" Akhlys asked. "Because it looks like it hasn't been cut in years!"

"Why you…"

Percy tried one foot out and then the other, trying to pull himself together. Literally, he was trying to call the mist to himself the way that Nico had but it wasn't really working. Knowing him, the son of Hades had some kind of special tutor in the Underworld who taught him a multitude of things— how to be a shadow and how to shroud himself in death mist and combat excellently as nothing more than a bit of fog being some of them. Nico was fighting like he'd passed 101 and gone straight to advanced. Whatever the case was, Percy couldn't command the faint wisps, no amount of internal tugging or pleading was making a difference.

For each rapid step Akhlys took (she was downright agile for a nearly mummified death deity), fatal flowers grew in her place. And with the rate of her steps? The barren field would soon be lush with life. But the flowers also reached forward, protruding and pushing themselves closer and closer to Nico.

Catching a whiff of their saccharine perfume, Percy's stomach churned. She was backing Nico towards the edge of the barren field, half with her actions, and half with her death bouquet. For every parry, feint and slice Nico was still losing ground. Towards the edge of the peninsula. To the edge of Death.

"Cheerful!" He shouted. The word burst forth from his lips before he could even think about what he was doing. The wail squall that left her lungs was deafening. But she didn't turn, too focused on her prize. "Compassionate! Chirpy! Peppy! Merry!" Her high pitched tirade continued but she was not willed away from the younger demigod.

He almost did it. Nico almost managed to dodge the last move she made, tucking himself into a crouch and readied to roll forward and to the side of her but she caught him with a clawed foot and boy did she need to cut her toenails. The blow caught him off guard and he recovered, climbing back to his feet but he was too close. His heels were to the edge and there was nothing behind to support him. Nico threw a look over his shoulder and when he turned back, he held his sword with renewed determination.

Percy was running but he was too far. He threw his bag with all their rations at her trying to distract her but Akhlys was deaf and blind to his efforts. She would not be moved. In the end, she smiled and when she struck, Nico met her blow but the forward trajectory took his ethereal form too far back and in the end (it was like slow motion), his arms windmilled trying against any logic to catch himself and regain balance but it was hopeless. He stood teetering.

He could see it happening even before it did.

"I never liked the flavour of Hades' son. A rather rotten harvest." With a wicked smirk, she slashed again and Nico fell backwards disappearing into the black below.

"NOOOO!" The words ripped from his throat like the wind through sails on a boat doomed to succumb to a storm at sea.

Percy didn't have a fully solid form but he was on her then, meeting Akhlys and clashing like hot and cold fronts, crashing in the quiet of Tartarus. All that echoed was blow after blow and their breathing. She blocked his strifes and he struck again and again and again, limbs never ceasing despite the fatigue quickly growing. As a figure made of mist Nico moved like liquid but Percy was a fish on land, but he refused to let that stop him.

Not when Akhlys had condemned his friend to a fate worse than death. Worse than Tartarus. To primordial powers and punishment.

"How does it feel, my child? To know you are alone and your friend's fate… so uncertain. Will he made it to Chaos? Or won't he survive the journey? So new, to be presented with such an opportunity!"

"AHHHHH!" He wailed, smashing the goddess in the ribcage with the blunt side of the sword.

She wheezed for a moment, weaving in her stance before baring her fangs and hissing at him sending more snot and spit flying.

"You will die, my delectable demigod. You are in Tartarus and you cannot escape. Not from me, not from the true and final death. Not from the mist that will fall over your eyes before your time comes. And he knows you are here, he has known since the beginning. Now I will drink you dry, and feed your remains to the Eternal Night. Perhaps if there is something left, I will give it to Tartarus as a gift."

Lips parted and those fucking awful rotten teeth showed again. Percy wanted to

Riptide divorced each of her remaining talons from her fingers one by one. She was fixated on him, and when she could not cut his throat with her own fingers, Akhlys changed tactics.

"Do not say Misery did not try to be merciful. I would have gifted you a swift death. But this… it shall be slow." From her feet, the plants grew wild, pushing forth from the barren floor of Tartarus, splitting the dry earth. Green vines sprung forth, bright coloured flowers, and sickly scents gasped in the air.

Percy's mind went fuzzy, his vision blurry, and he couldn't have told anyone if it was from the water in his eyes, the plants growing forth, or the mist leeching the life away from him. Akhlys stood, sending the plants forth towards him, spewing saplings faster and faster. They began dripping, their juices flowing, poison running hot and thick. It flooded towards him, circling him, creating a tiny island of dust that grew smaller and smaller.

Smaller. And smaller.

Beneath him the ground hissed and sizzles, smoking.

There were only inches left, and the flowers were rising up taller, the vines creeping closer. They would start to wrap around his ankles soon and crawl up him. They'd use him like a stock and soon he'd be covered, trapped where he was, burned alive or dissolved to death. Whichever happened first. There had to be something.

Nico.

Poor Nico.

He can't be… not after all this…

But he could be. Your fault. Everything that has happened to him since the day you found him… it's been your fault. One way or another. Your'e responsible.

No. He couldn't succumb to those kinds of thoughts. There had to be something. This couldn't be final death. Not when they were so close. So so close. The thought threw his mind just moments later, gravitating once more towards the son of Hades. Those powers he had, to control the earth and those made of the earth… maybe he had the same. There was no water around him but poison… it was made of water. If he just focused.

Steadying his breathing, and ignoring the pang in his chest of blood slithering slower and slower in his veins, Percy concentrated. The familiar tug in the pit of his stomach was small at first but it swelled like a wave inside of himself. The poison rippled, minuscule motions echoing outwards from where he stood. The pressure grew, in his stomach, behind his eyes, in his mind… his gut was boiling, scalding with the loss of his friend, the injustice of this journey, with the requests of gods who asked so much and gave nothing in return, for impossible odds and never any thank yous.

Nico. Ten years old eyes full of wonder, bouncing on the balls of his heels with every quick fired question and the new world before him. Percy's fault. Eyes broken with the weight of being alone in the world again, Percy's fault. Forgetting Bob. Not asking after him. Not looking after him. So many pains… his fault. Tartarus. His fault.

The poison swelled backwards, heading towards Akhlys. All he saw was red. The red of Tartarus, blood and fire and affliction— unmatched and eternal.

"W-what… what are you doing? Stop that! You can't do this!"

"Percy! PERCY! Shit… shit shit shit… I'm kind of… barely hanging on here. Whatever you're doing, cut the shit— AND COME HELP ME!"

The Sea Prince lost concentration for only a second. Who…? and then he remembered. Nico. Over the edge of the pit. Not over the edge but clinging to the ledge just like Percy before he'd fallen. And he had a chance to return the favour and either save him or plunge down with him. Whatever it was, he wouldn't be doing it alone. But Akhlys… he had to be rid of her. She was going to hurt Nico. Hurt Percy. She'd lied and she deserved torment. Whatever he did to save Nico, she'd just undo it if given the chance.

Percy wouldn't give her the chance.

"Aren't you going to save your friend?" The mummified goddess asked, fangs raking her bottom lip. Now she was not only bleeding from the gouges on her teeth but also from her mouth. "Or can you live with yourself a few minutes longer knowing that where he will go, he will live in eternal ataxia?"

"That's a pretty big vocabulary for a crusty old fossil." Focusing his concentration once more, he felt the bubbling in his stomach, livid and scorching his insides. The death mist stopped then, stopped pouring away from him. But the poison, it was swept away by a new tide and he felt every putrid molecule as it descended back on Akhlys.

But it wasn't enough.

No, there was more he could do.

"PERCY!" Nico shouted again, from over the edge. "STOP!"

Percy could feel it. Every modicum of moisture because everything… everything was made at least partially from water. Just like everything came from the ash and the earth and the dust… everything. They went hand in hand. Side by side. And he could feel them, the particles, just waiting for his invitation and they would agree. The mucus that dripped from her nose and the water that ran from her eyes, he could feel it. Different than the sea but it was saline, salt content, water.

"PERCY!" Nico's voice quaked, loud but no longer as strong.

"Don't worry, Nico. I've got this."

"What… what are you doing?" Akhlys bellowed.

The tears and the snot choked her, he halted it in her lungs and shoved it back at her, forcing it into her as the poison descended upon her feet and began eating away at the husk that was her skin. As her feet were smoking, Percy reached out with his hand and his mind, feeling for all of the moisture in Nico. Not in the way that he'd felt for it in Akhlys but to call it to him, like he did with the sea or a river or water in general. To bring it forward.

Percy was abrupt but cautious enough not to leech all the water from Nico but let it remain intake within the other boy, willing Nico himself to come forward. He felt the success as Nico was deposited onto the floor of Tartarus, no longer hanging over the pit. Attention was immediately turned back to Akhlys who had fallen to her knees, clawing at her face once more but also her throat, trying to open up a new airway.

"We have had enough of you." He took a step forward.

"And we're not going to play your game any more. Fuck, I'm not going to play any games any more. In fact, you can play my games. And this game is called run back where you came from, you pitiful wretch. You tell Tartarus or Chaos or whoever you think the biggest bad is and tell them that Poseidon's son will defeat you all. Every. Single. One. And if you ever touch the ones I love, you'll wish you were mortal, because you'd beg me to die."

Laying on her side, her hair and side were smoking, eaten away by the poison. Her eye dropped in the corner and pustules burst out on the parched skin of her face.

Percy let go of his hold then and Akhlys, choking and gagging as she went, scrambled to her feet and ran in the opposite direction. For a few seconds he watched her go.

Remembering where he was, and who he was, he turned back to his friend ready to congratulate him on a job well done. Nico had been amazing, the way he'd moved! It was incredible. And it really was all thanks to him that Percy had been able to do any of those things. It was that talk, the fact that Nico could do so much. Percy had never even considered the possibilities, the ways in which his element could be further manipulated to help him.

Nico lay on the ground near the edge of the pit. "Come on, Neek. Get up. Time to make a move before she changes her mind. I don't think I scared her off for that long… Neek?" Rushing forward on mist like feet was much easier now and as he dropped to the boy's side, he didn't need to be a child of Hades to see— through the death mist, through everything— that the younger boy wasn't breathing. And he barely had to use his newfound awareness to realise that the water had settled. There wasn't blood pumping through his veins, partial spectre or not.

"Neek!?" A fury of curse words in both English and ancient Greek poured from his lips as he leaned over the other, his ear close to the other half bloods mouth. No sensation. He wasn't breathing. How long had it been? A few minutes? The synapses in his brain fired a hundred times faster than their normal ADHD speed.

He'd done this. He always did this. It was Nico. This was always his fate at the hands of Percy.

Tears welled up in his eyes as Percy shook the boy with no response.

"C'mon, Nico. C'mon. Wake up… come on."

In the back of his mind he knew that he was missing something. Some crucial little thing that he'd known once upon a time when he was calm and rational and not trying to suppress the nausea building in the back of his throat filling his mouth with saliva and an urge to puke. Shaking hands ran through Nico's hair and down the side of his face feeling at the side of his neck for a pulse. Nothing. Just as he'd thought.

"Nico…" he murmured, the name catching in his throat.

If he could just say it enough, he'd open his brown eyes. He would.

Sucking on his bottom lip, he brushed at his eyes and drew in a shaky breath.

Pull it together, Jackson. He's not dying here. Not today. So fucking do something!

Once more he reached inside himself and this time, precision like a surgeon, he felt out and into the other boy's body. To his blood. And he forced his heart to beat. One time, very gently. A second time, soft. A third, fourth, fifth, until there was a steady rhythm. The blood rushed through his veins but he still wasn't breathing.

Tilting the boy's head back, he placed his mouth over Nico's and blew forcing the air back into his lungs. Ten seconds. Again. And again. And again. And again.

The tears were blurring his vision. The only thing he could see was that below him was his friend, dark hair falling across him, long eyelashes fanned across his cheek, and he just wouldn't fucking wake up.

"Don't you dare, Nico. Don't you dare do this to me. Not now. Not when we're so close. You better wake up or, Zeus' sandals, so help you!"

He blew into his mouth again, forcing the oxygen into his body. With one last push to his heart and another exhale into the boy's mouth, Percy knew that would be it. The last chance. Because he'd give anything for Nico to have forever but Percy Jackson couldn't work miracles.

Midst breath into the other boy's lungs there was tension.

Pulling back, Nico's body shot up, wracking with a cough. His eyes opened, chocolate and skepticism earned in his short lifetime. Percy choked, pulling the other boy to him and sobbing into his shoulder. Arms were slow to curl around him, but they did, leading him forward to rest.

"N-nico… gods, Nico. You were g-gone… fuck… You were dead. You were fucking dead!"

Nico nodded, silent in his ministrations as he smoothed down the hair on Percy's head.

Anger flared through him at the lack of response. Where were his tears? Why didn't he care? He'd nearly left Percy all lone down here in this fucking place!

"You were dead," he repeated.

"I know."

Sitting up, he sucked in a deep breath and worried his bottom lip with his teeth.

"You were dead and—"

"It was an accident."

"I killed you."

Nico fixed his gaze on Percy and pressed their foreheads together once more, holding his sight. "Every day in Tartarus is killing me," he said honestly. "Now come on, we have to get going."

He pulled himself up, swayed briefly, brushed himself off and attached his Stygian sword to his belt once more. If he was exhausted he didn't show it because neither of them had time to feel it. They had to get to the doors.

AN: And we're getting close to the end of the first instalment in this series, boys & gals. I'm so excited and nervous at the same time. Thank you again for all your feedback and for all the likes or the follows. You're incredible.