Ch20

Surprisingly, the underworld wasn't that hard to find. It didn't draw Percy in like Camp Half-Blood had, but apparently all sufficiently Greek places gave off an aura or a scent. Grover was able to follow it with ease, albeit, complaining about the cold, damp scent the whole way.

D.O.A. Records seemed a little run down and unobtrusive from the outside, but Percy didn't have to examine it to be sure it was the entrance to the underworld. This close, even Percy could pick up the cold aura it emitted. Inside the record label was somehow tastefully opulent despite the rundown exterior and it didn't look anything like what Percy expected for a record label, let alone the entrance to the underworld. Once he caught sight of the spirits flickering in and out of the corners of his eyes and the imposing man sat behind a large desk, he bit his tongue. With the ghosts and a guard of some kind present he couldn't find it in him to complain.

The man behind the desk was pointedly ignoring the quietly muttered complaints from the lobby spirits and looked incredibly bored. His entire demeanour gave off strong 'don't-talk-to-me' vibes but Percy didn't give himself a chance to back out. They had to bluff their way past whoever this was and, as the best liar, Percy was taking point. Annabeth was his only back up as Grover was not to speak under any circumstances.

Buck the fuck up, Jackson, you've done this a million times before.

"Um, sir?" Percy made his voice tremble and let a lost expression settle over his face. The man looked up at them and Percy hid his grimace at how the man's features flickered.

Definitely not mortal, not that you were expecting him to be.

"Well, well," the man drawled. "New deadlings. What happened to you lot?"

Percy creased his brow. "I– there was a…a monster? And a say– um, satyr?" Percy made himself flinch. "We were waiting for my mom, she was– she was going to drive us somewhere safe but–" he cut himself off and blinked back tears that weren't entirely faked.

The man– Charon, or at least Percy thought that was what his name tag said– leaned forward, losing a fraction of his irreverence. "Godlings, then. All of you?" His eyes were narrowing, in thought or suspicion Percy wasn't sure.

"Johnny wanted me to leave them," Percy brought the tremble back to his voice, "but I couldn't just leave them behind. We're– they're the only friends I've ever had. We're family, no matter what anyone else says."

Charon grimaced sympathetically but leaned back in his chair. "I'm sorry, but unless you have payment I can't take you across the river. Boss' rules." He was eying them carefully– too carefully.

That's okay, you planned for this. Annabeth's got this.

She shuffled forwards, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out two drachmas, double the usual fee. Percy mimicked her.

"We found these in our pockets when we–we," she cut herself off. "We found these in our pockets, sir." Her voice sounded hesitant. "Do they– would you take them as payment?"

Charon's gaze had turned greedy and was fixed on the coins, even as Grover pulled his own two drachmas. "Do you know what you've got there, girly?"

Annabeth hesitated. "Coins?"

Percy had to smother a fierce grin. Annabeth had missed her calling as an actress, her performance was immaculate.

Charon hummed and took in the sight of the three of them, all holding two drachmas. Percy could see the exact moment he decided to disregard any discrepancies in their story or the way they looked a little too solid to be dead. Bingo.

"You're in luck," he decided. "I've got just enough room for the three of you this trip." They passed the coins over and he led them to the elevator. Percy made sure to keep a confused look on his face, just in case, even as he cheered internally.

Like taking candy from a baby. I'd like to see you top that performance, Dean.

Percy tangled his hands with Annabeth's and Grover's as the elevator doors closed.

Step one: enter the underworld. Check.

If he'd thought the quest would be smooth sailing once they'd gotten into the underworld, Percy would've been dead wrong.

They made it past Cerberus without much incident. Apparently, before she'd run away, Annabeth's family had had a dog. The whole family had gone to obedience training and Annabeth had taken to it just like she took to most everything else. Within two minutes she'd had Cerberus sitting and waiting patiently for her next order. They'd passed under his huge form without hassle after that.

Once they were past him though…the underworld was not what Percy had expected. He couldn't see the roof despite the fact that they were clearly underground and what walls he could see looked like they'd been hewn straight from the rock. Beyond that…

Most of the underworld seemed to be taken up by plains and plains of fields packed with spirits. Each and every one of them somehow looked more alone than anyone he'd ever seen in his life but none of them made a move to interact with each other. They just stood there. Blank faced, lost, trapped in an internal world that was clearly more isolated than the one they were standing in. Annabeth noticed the direction of his gaze.

"The fields of Asphodel. When you arrive in the underworld, your spirit is judged. Those who haven't done anything remarkable end up there. Never did anything good or bad, just went through the motions of life, so they do that for the rest of eternity."

Percy swallowed against bile.

It was its own form of punishment, almost. Just desserts for never doing anything meaningful in your life, good or bad. He could sort of move past it, or at least push it to the back of his mind but…past the fields of Asphodel…well. It didn't matter that Percy was very carefully not looking. He could still hear the souls. The screams.

He knew his mythology just well enough to know what the Greeks believed in. The fields of punishment. He flinched at another scream and caught Annabeth staring sadly into the distance. She caught him looking and flushed a little.

"I can see Sisyphus," she gestured vaguely toward the screams. "I know he deserves it but…pushing that boulder up the hill again, and again, and again…"

She trailed off and Percy steeled himself. Sure enough, in the distance he could make out Sisyphus, halfway up his hill and straining against his eternal burden. Then he caught an eyeful of a soul hooked to a rack like a sack of meat and flinched back again. Percy wasn't sure if the screaming he could hear belonged to them or to someone else, but the way they were just hanging…

He forcefully turned away and fought against the urge to gag. When he looked up again, Grover was staring at him in concern. Percy ruthlessly shoved away the vulnerable, exposed feeling creeping up on him.

"What?" He snapped defensively, tightening the straps of Ares' bag.

"Your beliefs influence what you see here. It's how the underworld deals with the whole multiple-religions thing. Annabeth and I are wholly Greek. I grew up in this world and Annabeth got to camp young enough that most of her formative years were heavily influenced by the Greek world."

Percy swallowed and resisted the urge to glance away.

"Percy," Grover's voice was quiet, "you've been pale and shaky since we made it past Cerberus." Grover didn't voice any actual question but he didn't have to. Percy knew what he was asking.

"Hunters who have been unlucky enough to encounter demons never have anything good to say but it's widely acknowledged that they're real. And since the presence of demons implies the existence of hell…" Another scream rent the air and Percy flinched. Annabeth went grey and Grover took Percy's hand.

"Let's get out of here." Annabeth took his other hand and the three of them walked deeper into the underworld.

...

The screaming had only just faded from earshot when everything turned to shit. The walls of the underworld had narrowed somewhat into a wide corridor and the gates of Hades' palace could be seen in the distance. Percy was finally starting to relax when Grover's hand was ripped from his grip. One moment Grover was there and the next he was being dragged through the air by his backpack towards an opening in the wall.

"Grover!" Percy's panicked yell tore out of his throat even as he and Annabeth took off after him. Percy struggled to keep up.

"Take off the bag!" Annabeth yelled but they could both see Grover struggling to free his arms and shoulders from the straps in his panic.

Percy got to the entrance of the cavern just in time to see Grover free himself from the bag and land just short of a pit. A very familiar pit.

A pit the bag had thrown itself into.

Annabeth rushed to Grover's side but Percy couldn't stop staring. He knew this cavern. Distantly he registered their conversation.

"...would you have your straps so tight!?"

"...try using crutches with a bag flopping all over the place!"

Percy walked closer to the pit, trying to stare down into its depths. It was just as dark as in his dreams. It looked like it stretched down forever.

"...an entrance to Tartarus, why would your bag…"

"...could hear flapping. You don't think the shoes…"

Why had the bag been pulled down to Kronos? Why had Grover's bag been pulled down. Percy was the one Kronos was…pressuring, right?

Right?

"Percy?"

That was Grover's concerned voice. Percy finally looked away from the pit to find Annabeth and Grover staring at him in concern. He managed to find his voice.

"I know this cavern." His voice was hoarse but he didn't bother to clear his throat. "I've been dreaming about it since I got to camp."

Somehow, the concerned looks got worse. A quiet rumble started deep in the pit and Percy raised his voice to be heard over it.

"Luke said the shoes might've been tampered with," he said, finally registering what Grover had said about hearing flapping. Grover was already shaking his head.

"To pull something into Tartarus would require powerful magic, Perce. Ancient magic. Stronger than anything the Stolls would be capable of, even if they did know how."

But that would mean Kronos had wanted to drag him into Tartarus. But Luke had given him the shoes and warned him against wearing them. That's why they'd been in Grover's bag. Percy couldn't make sense of anything. The rumbling grew louder and Annabeth and Grover took a few hasty steps back. But…Percy…he knew the presence that was filling the chamber. It had been haunting his dreams for weeks.

"We need to go." The words tumbled from his lips before he could mutter them. This…Kronos was…Percy wasn't sure but he knew it wasn't good.

Forfeiting your life to Kronos is one thing. Forfeiting your friends is something else entirely.

He turned and strode from the pit, Kronos' chanting growing louder behind him. He grabbed Annabeth and Grover and started running.

They'd just made it to the mouth of the cave when a great wind hit them front-on, rushing past them, catching on clothes and bags and dragging them back a few steps. It rushed down into the pit and Percy's bag felt like a weight dragging him backwards.

He couldn't help but feel it was Kronos taking a deep breath, trying to swallow them down like he swallowed his children. Percy held on tighter to his friends. Somehow the three of them managed to keep their feet under them until the wind petered out.

Percy took a shaky breath. His face was stinging from the force of the wind. His eyes were watering and his hair felt like a lost cause. His bag sat like a rock on his back.

"Percy," Grover's voice was shaking. "You– what–"

"We need to talk about what just happened." Annabeth's voice was firm but Percy couldn't get his mouth to move. "What just happened, these dreams you've apparently been having– that was the Crooked One, Percy. He's basically enemy number one! And he's been, what, talking to you–"

"Annabeth!" Percy managed to get himself under control. This was– what could he say? "I– he was just–" he broke off and squeezed his eyes shut. "He was just talking, okay?"

"And you listened!?"

"He was making a lot of very good points! At least to start with! And I didn't– I'm here, aren't I?" He blew out a long breath. "Look, this isn't the time or the place for this conversation. I– let's just finish this and then you can yell at me or– or whatever. I will stand there and listen and– whatever answers you need from me but later."

Annabeth's glare hadn't abated in the slightest but Grover cut her off before she could speak.

"He's right. This isn't the time or the place." Annabeth looked away for a moment before conceding with a slight nod. Grover pinned Percy with a look. "I'm holding you to that conversation, Percy. This…this is serious. Okay?"

Percy nodded, misery creeping in. After everything they'd survived, everything he'd put them through while trying to avoid Dean, this…this might be the straw that broke the camel's back. He averted his eyes and readjusted the straps on his backpack. The three of them left the cave, making for Hades' palace in stony silence.

The gates to Hades' palace were open and waiting for them. Percy got the distinct feeling Hades was…not welcoming so much as beckoning the inside. He opened his mouth to comment on it but couldn't bring himself to break the tense silence that had settled between the three of them.

They found Hades sitting on his throne. A small table sat next to him, piled high with stacks of ledgers precariously balanced and Percy could see shelves upon shelves of more in the distance behind the throne. The room was…cavernous. Like it was used to all the furniture taking up more space. Glittering jewels were studded randomly along the walls and ceiling, and cracked geodes grew up in spontaneous intervals, clustering in corners and along the walls.

As they walked silently into the throne room, Hades put down the ledger he was currently handling.

The god was, in a word, regal.

His face held none of Dionysus' disdain or Ares' rage. His features were carved out of cold courtesy, a mask as perfect as the crown on his head and the flowing robes he wore with confidence.

This…this was a god.

Percy put down his bag, swallowed behind trembling lips, and knelt. He had one chance at this. Either he would convince Hades to release his mother, or he would likely be joining her. Whether it was at the hands of Hades, or Zeus, or something else entirely.

"Nephew." Hades' voice was even but Percy could not call it calm. "Child of Athena. Satyr. You have come to bargain for the release of my hostage."

Hostage. Not the return of a soul. Did that mean…

Percy swallowed roughly. He felt Annabeth's and Grover's hands on his shoulders and had to blink back rapid tears. He stood to look Hades in the eye.

"You took my mother. She had nothing to do with any of this."

"The innocent are rarely kept out of danger."

Any chance of politeness vanished as rage swallowed Percy. "That didn't mean you had to be the one to endanger her."

Cold fire sparked to life in Hades' eyes. "I have been a villain since the beginning. My family saw to that. Sally Jackson became fair game the moment she got involved with a god." Contempt had filled the god's voice and his aura filled the room, pressing in tight. Annabeth and Grover stepped closer to Percy even as his breath misted in front of him. Anger kept him warm. He bit out the words that had been used to console him only hours earlier.

"You're only a monster if you let them make you one. It's about what you choose." He felt Grover's grip tighten on his shoulder.

"Enough of this." Hades didn't so much as shift but the pressure in the room became suffocating. Percy had to lock his knees to keep from crumpling under the strain and he felt Annabeth and Grover trembling with the force of staying upright. "Return my helm to me, thief, or you and your mother can join all the others who have displeased me in the fields of punishment."

Annabeth took in a startled breath beside him but Percy's vision was clouded by rage.

"I didn't steal anything! I didn't know about any of this until the night you stole my mom!"

"DO NOT LIE TO ME, BOY. I can sense my helm in this very ROOM!"

Annabeth stepped forward even as a pit formed in Percy's stomach. He was vaguely aware of the conversation continuing without him.

"Lord Hades, if you can sense your helm, why don't you just summon it to you?" Annabeth's voice sounded distant, as if it was coming from underwater.

Cold, cutting eyes turned her way. "Because, foolish girl, it is protected by magic!"

Percy could feel how Grover's hand was trembling, but the satyr's voice was steady when he said, "that sounds like powerful magic, Lord Hades. More powerful than a twelve-year-old could do, even if his father is the god of the seas."

If Percy had been watching, he would've seen Hades' gaze turn sharper still, but he couldn't tear his eyes from his bag on the floor next to him. Ares' bag. Ares' bag that none of them had been able to open, the bag that had been getting steadily heavier the closer they got to Hades. He knelt to open it and this time, the zip moved smoothly.

There, a helm so dark the air around it felt cold.

He picked it up and before he could talk himself out of it, took three steps forward and knelt once more, raising the helm to Hades.

The throne room fell silent.

"You claimed you did not have it." Hades' voice was…measured.

"I didn't know I did." Percy despised the tremble in his voice but was unable to stop it. Hades made no move to take the helm.

"Stand, nephew."

No one commented on the way his legs shook, or how long it took for him to raise his head. When he finally managed to meet Hades' gaze, he felt his heart stutter in his chest.

"Death is not fair. It comes at any moment without regard for who or when or why. Why offer me the helm without attempting to bargain. What is to stop me from taking my property and killing you all?"

The ghosts of Sam's laughter and Dean's outrage echoed in the back of his mind even as he could feel Annabeth's stare boring into the back of his head.

"Death isn't fair. It takes with no regard for anything or anyone." Percy couldn't stop the bitter smile from crossing his lips. "But last I checked, you weren't the god of death. You're the god of the dead. And in death, everyone is equal. It comes for everyone, no matter who they are or what they have to offer."

Hades stared at him for what seemed to be an eternity before he smiled. It was a calculating, cutting smile that was undercut with just a hint of surprise. He leaned back in his throne, the first movement he'd made since setting aside his ledger. "Tell me your story, nephew."

Percy glanced back at Annabeth and Grover only to find them with him once again. So he turned to face Hades, and they told him of their quest.

When they finished, Percy could no longer feel his hands where he held the helm and keeping his eyes open was becoming a challenge. Annabeth was shooting him concerned looks but Hades' just gazed at them with depthless eyes. Finally, he reached down and took the helm from Percy's nerveless fingers.

"Your mother will be returned to the mortal realm. I took her as a bargaining chip, and as she was never dead, I am technically not releasing her soul."

Grover was the only thing that kept Percy standing as his legs gave out from under him.

She was never– She was taken for the sole purpose of forcing him into a position where he'd have to give something up.

Percy slammed down on his rage before he could say something that would destroy everything he'd just gained.

"I am curious, nephew," Hades pinned him in place with dark eyes, "why you never tried to claim relation. You were bargaining for your mother's life and yet you never tried to address me as uncle, not even once I addressed you as nephew."

Percy's voice was hoarse when he responded. "Some really intelligent people told me that you are what you choose to be. I think family is what you make of it, too. It's decided by more than just blood."

Surprise hinted in Hades' eyes, although there was still no warmth to be seen and less respect that had been present in Ares'.

Ares– the bag– Percy swallowed back yet more anger and focused on Hades. The god was addressing all three of them, not just Percy.

"You have earned my regard today, Perseus Jackson, because you are more than what I or any other god believed of you. You earned my regard today, Grover Underwood and Annabeth Chase, because you chose to stand with family against family, something I have not seen since my brothers and I slew our father." The god paused and his eyes turned colder still. "For this, and this alone, I will allow you to leave my realm unscathed. Do not return until it is your time for I will not grant you this boon a second time. Your existence is a bitter pill for many, nephew. Not everyone in our family will be on your side, myself included."

It took everything in Percy not to take a step back. He was sure Hades was aware of his fear, but openly displaying it would win him no favours.

Hades snapped his fingers and a passageway opened in the side of the throne room. Percy could see stairs spiralling upwards. He picked up Ares' bag, now somehow zipped again, and slung it over his shoulder. Annabeth and Grover each took one of his hands and they made for the staircase. Percy hesitated before ascending and turned to face Hades, hopefully for the last time.

"Thank you for your consideration, Lord Hades."

Lord Hades because family interactions weren't meant to be a transaction.

Lord Hades because he already had an uncle doing his best to leave his imprint on Percy.

Lord Hades because family may not end in blood, but it sure as shit didn't always start there either.

From the glitter in Hades' eyes, he understood well enough.

Percy turned to face the staircase and the three of them began ascending to the mortal realm. No one spoke but the tense silence of before was gone. Yes, they needed to have a conversation and no, Percy wasn't going to enjoy it but for now, they were okay.

In no time at all they found themselves stepping out into the cold L.A. air. The sun had well and truly set since they'd entered the underworld, and they found themselves in a gravel car park at the base of the Hollywood sign.

The figure waiting for them, clad in a leather jacket and leaning against a classic '67 chevy impala had Percy frozen to the spot as the gateway to the underworld closed up behind them.

Well, fuck.