Chapter 4

Percy quickly realised that there was only so much that Bob could do to counteract the heavy presence of the Pit. It seemed that with every time that Bob healed him, the moment of respite against the air's damaging influence reduced ever further until his lungs were burning once again.

Small Bob had leapt down from Percy's hands and was trotting alongside the two of them, sniffing and exploring the area around them without worry. That at least made it easier for Percy, but he was sure the kitten just thought he was walking too slow. Bob too was entirely unaffected by the poisonous fumes in the air that Percy breathed in. The demigod was a little jealous, especially when he threw up blood for the fourth time. His throat was raw and he was sure skin had been scraped off its entire length. It felt like with every breath he was swallowing his own blood. Percy retched up nothing but bile with a low groan, spitting onto the ground. Percy took a deep breath that felt like inhaling nails and immediately coughed and choked on his own blood as stars spotted his vision.

A hand squeezed Percy's shoulder and the worst of the pain and effects of Tartarus vanished. Percy's vision cleared somewhat, still blurry and he found himself squinting up at Bob, but at least the vast majority of the agony was gone. Percy angrily wiped away tears. "Thank you," he rasped out, his voice still hoarse and even that hurt. But at least breathing was mostly okay, at least his lungs hurt less again.

"Friend Percy is okay?"

Percy wasn't really sure he could call himself okay, but he nodded slightly. "I'm fine," he managed.

Bob's smile crinkled up and his eyes brightened, clearly happy that he'd been able to help. It had been like that every time he'd healed Percy and been thanked. Percy smiled slightly back at him. The lucidity of Bob for their rest under the overhang had all entirely vanished, but the smile still seemed odd on his face. Percy knew it could come back at any time and then he'd have to tip-toe around any memories he might be recalling of his time as Iapetus, but for now Bob was staunchly protective of Percy as they travelled. It was great, because it meant Percy could focus on not tripping over his own feet. He already had a limp from a slightly awkward placement of his foot following a hellhound lunging at him from the shadows. Bob seemed to have known it was there even before it emerged and had stabbed it with blinding speed mid-lunge while Percy had been struggling with his footing following the surprise.

Bob patted Percy on the shoulder once before removing his hand, nearly knocking Percy flat onto his stomach before he started off again. Percy scrambled after him, his mind clearer once again. The demigod's hand tightened over Riptide. "Small Bob," Percy called sharply, his nose crinkling up in distaste as he glanced back to see the calico kitten sniffing at Percy's vomit. "No. That's disgusting, leave it alone."

Fortunately, the kitten turned up its nose and bounded after them across the membrane-covered ground.

Even if Bob could soothe the pain that came from the acidic air which tried to kill Percy with every breath, he couldn't stop everything hurting him. He couldn't touch the way Percy's stomach twisted itself and growled with hunger, nor the thirst which left Percy's throat raw.

It all made the demigod briefly wish that he was immortal, if only so he didn't need food or liquids to survive. Immortals at least were immune to Tartarus' breath. But then Percy decided immortality meant he'd be stuck down there forever like other immortals and he found himself fervently wishing that Tartarus had crushed him back in that valley. If it weren't for Annabeth and for his mother, his family and friends… Percy shook the thought away. There was no time to linger over such things, not yet. Once they were at Damasen's hut they could rest properly for a while and figure out what they were going to do. It was a long-shot and Percy had never been any good at archery, but there was a chance that the giant could be back at his hut too.

The chance, as small as it was, was worth investigating.

As Percy stumbled along behind Bob, letting the amnesiac Titan guide him through the Pit, he found himself staring at Bob's back. Bob was down there with Percy because he'd jumped in – maybe it was stupid, but he found himself hoping that Poseidon would go in after him. Though the Olympians seemed to have a distinct fear of the Pit that was entirely warranted. Bob had just jumped in and honestly that was stupidly brave of the immortal and Percy was grateful to him – Percy and Annabeth both would've died if Bob hadn't jumped and Percy was always going to be thanking Bob for saving Annabeth's life. Percy couldn't see Poseidon jumping into Tartarus to help him.

Percy understood where Luke had been coming from when he'd turned against the gods; he was probably even the same age that Luke had been when he'd made that decision to swear his life away to Kronos, the King of the Titans. After so long of Percy rushing back and forth on all his various quests and world-ending prophecies for them… and now he was stuck down in Tartarus with only an amnesiac Titan to help him. Percy fisted his hands, letting his nails dig into his palm before he continued that train of thought.

Percy would never follow Luke's path. Luke had betrayed his friends and his family and that was something that Percy would never do. He would die before he betrayed anyone.

The faint glow of fire on the horizon made Percy frown. "Bob?" He asked tentatively. "This isn't Damasen's swamp – where are we going?"

Bob looked back at Percy, his silver eyes bright with concern as he did so. "Fire water," he said gravely to Percy. "Friend needs fire water. I can't fix friend, so we go to fire water."

Percy pressed his lips together. "But – the hut…?"

"After fire water," Bob said firmly. "Friend needs to be healed. Death approaches."

"That's – can we please not say that?" Percy asked tiredly.

Bob ducked his head, looking apologetic. "Sorry, friend Percy," he said. "Death doesn't approach."

"That's better," Percy said. "Let's be positive, right?"

Bob beamed. "Bob can be positive!" That was good, because Percy didn't think he could be. Hopefully Bob would be positive enough for both of them.

The glow of the Phlegathon strengthened as they trekked ever closer to the river of fire. Percy needed to be healed again by Bob. He stumbled and fell when he found his lungs trying to eject themselves from his body, coughing up blood and chunks of flesh. Percy's eyes furrowed when the blood he coughed up rose into the blood-clouds above them instead of hitting the ground. Bob could only dampen the pain as he lifted Percy back to his feet, worry in his silver eyes. "Friend Percy must move," he said urgently. Was all of that blood-mist from those whom the air killed? Percy glanced up above them, feeling sick again. But all he'd throw up would be bile and blood.

Percy was relieved that the river of fire was so close, he wasn't sure he could keep going on. Bob had been right to take Percy there before anywhere else. Percy stumbled on, every breath feeling like shoving barbed wire into his throat and swallowing back the nausea. It was a shame he couldn't just stop breathing to make it stop hurting.

The demigod dropped at the river bank, chest heaving and heart racing. He felt shards of sharp stone and glass slice into the flesh of his knees. Bob didn't seem concerned, picking Percy up carefully and nearly sliding down the riverbank until he reached the edges of the river where fire and sparks curled through the air. His mass snapped the stones and shattered glass beneath his feet with each step, unbothered by the streaks of ichor he left in his wake.

Percy was gently lowered half a dozen feet from the river, Bob shifting back to keep a respectful distance. He was immortal; Percy was sure that this river would have some form of a negative effect on Bob. It was designed to keep mortals alive, not immortals. Percy grimaced and dragged himself forward towards the river of fire, sparks rising and steam curling through the air. It cast a red glow over everything around them, bouncing off the point of Bob's spear and reflecting in his silver eyes as the Titan turned to keep guard over Percy.

The river bank sliced into Percy's flesh, much as it had with Bob's feet, and Percy gritted his teeth against the pain. The son of Poseidon thrust his hands into the fire when he could reach it, grimacing as he immediately brought it to his mouth. Percy coughed and spluttered, but he forced himself to swallow. Twice more he forced down the fire water, and twice more his body tried to expel it. Percy lay on his stomach, breathing harsh and yet slowly steadying. He shut his eyes, allowing himself this moment of respite.

"Is friend Percy okay?" Bob fretted from his position above Percy on the river's bank.

Percy grunted. "Fine, Bob," he reassured the immortal. "A lot better than I was," he added. Bob made an odd noise of delight that made Percy's lips twitch slightly. The Titan's sheer delight at the simplest of things was vaguely amusing to the demigod. Percy shifted slightly, grimacing as he pulled a small shard of sharp stone out of his arm where it had buried itself. He reached into the fire water again and took another large sip from his hands. Percy turned his arm over and watched as the bleeding gash healed before his eyes, slowly flexing his fingers.

If only Percy could take the fire water with him. It was even better than ambrosia and nectar, a hidden means of survival within Tartarus where everything else was trying to kill him. Apollo and Asclepius would likely kill to get their hands on it, Percy mused. It even tasted horrible like most other medicines too.

The fire water had cleared Percy's head, reenergized him and healed him. Percy grimaced, but he took another sip and felt the lingering vestiges of pain leave him. His stomach rolled, but Percy breathed through it and shifted until he was sitting and no longer on his belly.

For a few moments in the silence, Percy began to think that he could do this. Bob and Small Bob were with him, they were keeping him safe. It was doable; Percy could survive this until someone could get him out. It wouldn't be long until the gods would figure something out. Percy had saved them once – maybe twice if the rest of the Seven could finish this whole Gaea problem – and that had to count for something, right?

A blood-curdling screech that tapered off into a loud, echoing hiss around them shattered the moment of silence. It made Percy jump, cursing as he clutched at his ears. His eyes widened and he scrambled for Riptide as Bob raised his spear. Small Bob hissed and climbed the Titan to his shoulder so he could dive into the Titan's overalls and hide.

"What was that?" Percy asked, his eyes wide as the sound faded. The closest noise he'd ever heard to it had been during the Titan War. He scrambled up the river bank to stand next to Bob, Riptide raised.

Bob hummed. "Drakon," he said. "And not a Good Drakon." The Maeonian drakon that Damasen had rode into battle against Tartarus was probably the only good drakon that existed. Just like Damasen and Bob were the only good Giant and Titan respectively… only as long as Bob didn't remember his past.

Percy took a deep breath. "What do we do?" He asked Bob.

The Titan blinked at him with clouded eyes. "It is not close," he said to Percy reassuringly.

"You're sure?" Percy asked warily. His eyes were used to the darkened atmosphere of Tartarus now, but he still felt uneasy as he tried to spot the giant form of a drakon around them. The rocky ground left too many places for even it to hide.

"Yes, friend Percy," Bob said. The Titan tightened his grip on his spear, turning to observe the realm around them. "It is not close, but it will be soon," he said.

Percy immediately tensed. "Right," he said. "Maybe we can leave now then, Bob," Percy said pointedly. "I can't take down a drakon." Bob couldn't either like this. It was going to be a fine line. With Bob's memories, he'd likely recall his own abilities alongside them, but there was also the chance of him deciding to run Percy through with that spear of his if he remembered enough.

The demigod would prefer to avoid that.

Bob smiled. "To friend Damasen's hut," he said with a bright smile that didn't falter even as Percy heard the deep, echoing hiss of the drakon again. Bob was right, it sounded closer now, but Percy still failed to see it anywhere around them. Bob started off away from the river. Percy glanced back at it briefly before following after the Titan.

Percy spun in a circle, trying to figure out where the monster was, but saw nothing. His skin crawled. Percy preferred fighting face-to-face to being hunted like this thing seemed to be doing. "Where is it?" Percy demanded.

The amnesiac Titan shrugged. "Not close," he said.

"How far is not close?"

Bob blinked, before he only shrugged again. "Not close," he repeated. "Distance and time is different in Tartarus."

Percy resisted the urge to scream. "Okay," he slowly said. "Fine." He still kept glancing behind them as Bob marched on, the Titan occasionally slowing to allow Percy to catch up to him. He worried about leaving the river behind them and knew that it was the only thing that would heal him from Tartarus' poisonous breath, but there was nothing he could do. Percy couldn't just camp at the river the entire time, it was far too exposed – maybe he could find a solution somehow. His mind raced, trying to solve his problem, but coming up empty. What Percy needed was a way to carry the fire water around with him. Where he'd get something like that he didn't know.

Small Bob emerged from Bob's overalls and purred as the Titan crouched to let the kitten jump off. Percy's lips twitched as he watched the kitten sniff at the ground, bounding around the two of them. He seemed to have relaxed – hopefully that meant that the drakon was further away from them again.

It was good that Percy was feeling more capable again and not stumbling along behind Bob half dead, but it also left him able to think lucidly again. Percy didn't know how Annabeth was, how the Seven were now, what had happened with Gaea.

Was Gaea even dead? Percy had no idea. There was every chance that she'd won and the Olympians were reforming down here now. Maybe his friends were all in the Fields of Punishment and the Giants were watching his plight and laughing at him. Percy's fingers tightened around Riptide, the pen clutched in his hand. How would he even know?

Had Percy's sacrifice to stay behind helped keep Annabeth alive or was she dead now?

Percy tried to force the thoughts away, but there was little else to do as he followed behind Bob. He skirted around a large crater in the ground, eying the sludge just beginning to swell within from beneath the membrane. "Hey, Bob, what's beneath all this?" Bob blinked. He turned to face Percy, looking suddenly thoughtful. The intense look of concentration on his face made Percy shift uneasily. Percy hadn't wanted to stir up any memories with his question. "Don't worry – forget I asked," he said hurriedly. Bob as Iapetus had obviously walked through Tartarus for many years already – he'd know, of course, but there was a chance a question like that would knock something loose. Percy could've kicked himself and mentally told himself to watch what he said around the Titan.

Bob squinted at Percy, his spear planted. "Depths," he said to Percy.

Percy frowned. "What?" He asked.

Bob tilted his head sightly, still looking thoughtful. "Layers. The Pit is not flat," he said to Percy, his voice taking on more thoughtfulness and clarity than Percy liked to hear from him.

"Oh, okay," Percy said, his heart racing. He glanced down at his feet wondering what else was beneath him.

"Depths are darker," Bob said. "Where Good Titans and Bad Titans walk and bigger monsters."

Percy frowned. "But the drakon is here?"

"Nice smell," Bob said. "Demigod scent. Sea smell." He smiled brightly at Percy, as if he hadn't just told the demigod that the drakon was tracking Percy's scent.

"Oh," Percy said, his heart sinking at the thought that the drakon had apparently smelt him even from the deeper depths of the Pit and risen to the one he was on just to kill him and eat his remains. Percy brushed aside the thought that at least that would stop him from suffering. "Okay," Percy muttered. "That's great." He glanced behind them again, just in case it was trying to sneak up behind them all.

Nothing.

Frustration curled in Percy's stomach. If the drakon would just attack him he could stop worrying – it would be a relief to fight instead of run. Percy had the horrible feeling that he'd be doing a lot of running from now on.

But for now, he couldn't wait to stop and get off his feet. Even if Damasen wasn't at his hut any longer, the giant still had his bed there. Percy would admit to looking forward to sleeping in it and being able to stop running. Percy didn't know how long it would be until the poisonous air began to shred his lungs again and he worried that his time in Tartarus would be endlessly choking on his own blood for the rest of his life. At least it wasn't likely to be a long life now.

The demigod sighed, glancing over to where Small Bob was sniffing at the edge of one of the craters. The kitten meowed before bounding after Bob again. Percy wished he could have the kitten's obliviousness, but it was difficult when he spotted the dark shapes of monsters lurking along the edges of his vision.

Bob was the only thing keeping them at bay. Without the amnesiac Titan guiding him, Percy wouldn't last a minute down in Tartarus.

At least the Primordial himself didn't seem bothered with them anymore, he was probably just lurking somewhere and enjoying watching Percy stumble and struggle. Percy hoped he'd stay away, but knowing his luck he doubted that would hold for long.

"Come, friend Percy," Bob said with a brilliant smile. "We walk."

Percy shut out the dark thoughts in his head and sped up, keeping close to his only allies in the Pit as they trekked onwards.

More fun in Tartarus with Percy, Small Bob and Bob... Percy's really going to be having a horrible time down there.

Anne Camp aka Obi-quiet: Thanks! I won't lie, it's going to get quite horrible for Percy in this...

Guest: Thanks! XD