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Chapter Text

Nico didn’t know why he was running.

Each breath he took felt as if air was being ripped from his lungs, then sucked harshly back down his raw throat. It was pain. Rough, terrible pain. He could feel tears watering at the corners of his eyelids.

Yet he ran.

His body ached from nonuse, yet he pushed forward. Voices around him faded into a blur, no doubt questioning what he was doing. He leaped off the Argo II despite his tattered state, and ran towards Annabeth.

Why? He asked himself. Why do this?

Adrenaline pumped through his worn body. He fell to the edge, zeroing in on her form. Annabeth, whose ankle was wrapped tightly in spirals of ancient web. Whose face was tight with despair. Who, when she met his gaze, had terror gleaming within the depths of her eyes. Annabeth, who was trapped.

Why are you doing this? A voice in his head asked, pleading with him. She’s done nothing for you.

But as Annabeth fought against the restraints to no avail, eyes trained on Nico, waiting—Nico knew. Disgustingly, he knew; the answer was simple.

Because he loves her.

Nico hated himself. Oh, how he hated himself. He reminded himself of this, as the web began to rapidly unravel. As the chasm began to shake due to the removal of the Athena Parthenos. Nico watched Annabeth shift to the side, horrifically unbalanced and teetering towards the depths. Seconds. Only seconds, until she was to fall into the abyss.

The Earth trembled and cracked further open, Annabeth screamed. With not a moment further to hesitate, Nico closed his eyes, feeling the darkness choke him, and with all the strength he had remaining—he shadow traveled Annabeth to safety.

The logistics of such magic happen to be quite simple. Nico has done such a thing many times before. He’d merely fade into the shadows, traverse through the dark landscape to his intended location, then return to the world, take her with, and repeat.

At first, he executed flawlessly. Nico gasped as he fell from the shadows, tendrils of darkness clinging onto his slight frame. Finding himself next to her, Annabeth stared at him with wide eyes, and that was all he saw before grabbing her arm then dissipating back into black.

It was then that he drowned in the dying light.

When he came to, something was terribly, terribly wrong.

She stood there at the edge of the Pit.

Looking down at him.

“Nico!” He could hear her yell, but her voice was already fading away. Everything felt as if it was in slow motion, like a movie he would’ve watched a long time ago. Cradled in his mother’s arms. Faintly, he heard Bianca’s laugh echo from a desolate corner of his mind

Such childish thoughts floated through his head, fleeting as he flew weightlessly. For he was falling.

Nico already knew what had happened. He had been too weak. His shadow travel had failed him. He had fallen just short. So tantalizingly close to making it.

But oh, how the Fates must be laughing at him.

For he was going to go back. Back down.

Alone.

What a pitiful picture he must be making. His descent to Hell, weak and battered. He had already crawled his way out. Been tortured, suffocated, brought to the brink of death. He had done this, all in hopes of seeing the sun again.

But Children of Hades rarely get what they want. And Tartarus was far from done with him.

Nico closed his eyes. He couldn’t bear to watch.

He felt an overbearing sense of calm. A brief quietude reserved solely for him. His eyelids were wound, only to snap open, elicited by a sudden warmth enveloping his hand—bringing him back to the present. He collided with the side of the pit, grunting in shock. A spike of pain shot through his side. Dazed, he sought the source of what grabbed him. Tan fingers, unmistakably pruned from the sea. were clutching onto his wrist. He looked further up, to meet sea green eyes.

“No.” He felt his lips move. Nico began to shake, brain wracking in despair. Why you?

“Nico.” Percy spoke, words strained. Nico glanced up to where Percy’s other hand was glued onto a ledge sticking out from the Earth, barely sticking. Above him, Annabeth was desperately reaching out, looking horrified.

Annabeth. Oh.

Nico almost laughed in spite of himself. He wondered briefly who came up with such a wicked punishment for him.

It was simple, after all.

Percy may be a hero, but he was still human. Nico knew it wouldn’t be long before the Son of Poseidon made his choice, the only choice. He’d go to Annabeth. Of course he would, they didn’t need Nico for their quest. He thought of Hazel, who now had the Seven. Who could easily lead them to the Doors of Death herself. It was clear, no one needed him anymore. Percy could get out. He should get out now, before it was too late. Hell, Nico knew Percy didn’t like him, hardly tolerated him on a good day. He was going to let him go.

Truly, it was as simple as that.

“Percy!” Annabeth sobbed, anguished, “I can’t—I can’t reach–!”

“It’s okay.” Nico could feel Percy’s words reverberate through him, “It’ll be okay, Wise Girl.”

“I—I, no, I—“ Nico had never seen Annabeth look so lost, “Just hang on, please, we just, fuck, I just–need to come up with a plan.” She turned around, screaming breathlessly for back-up.

Nico felt the Earth tremble with rage. The ledge Percy held onto began to shake violently. Cracks in the walls broke open further.

Below him, Nico felt only Evil. Evil, which suddenly wrapped around his lower body like a vice. Tugging on him sharply. Nico gasped, and he heard Percy stutter in shock.

Tartarus was pulling him down.

Nico forced his vocal cords to act, “Percy—“ He started.

“Agh.” Percy groaned in response, looking down at Nico with a worn grin. Nico’s heart skipped a beat, stupidly. “Shh. Don’t worry kid, I’ve got you.”

“No! You idiot.” Nico bit his tongue, forcing the words out, “Please, just, let go.”

Percy, horribly, cruelly, beautifully, responded with that same smile. “I’m not letting go of you Nico.”

Why? His mind asked.

“Why?” His voice echoed.

“Nico! Percy!” Nico’s and Percy’s heads swiveled back upwards, where Hazel now kneeled next to Annabeth. Both their hands were desperately outstretched. So close, yet so far.

The two girls were sobbing, screaming, and stretching. Yet nothing could be done. Nico felt one of Hazel’s tears splatter onto his face, melting into his own quiet tears wetting his cheeks. He hadn’t even realized he was crying.

“Hazel. Look at me.” Percy spoke as the chasm shook them further, swaying them slightly, “Epirus. The Doors of Death. You’ll lead them there for me, okay?”

“How? Percy, I don’t know where to go!” Hazel’s face flashed with outrage. “Nico is the only one, the prophecy said so.”

“Percy, please. Just hang on. We’ll get you both out.” Annabeth’s voice was wrecked. Her words held no weight, and she knew it.

“Hazel.” Nico trained his eyes on his sister. Her face was stricken, “You can do it, I know you can.”

“Nico—“ She started, but Nico cut her off. He hated how his voice trembled.

“I’ll find a way to tell you. Of course I will. You trust me, right?”

“I–yes. Of course.” Hazel whispered, barely heard over the creaking of the surface.

Percy nodded firmly, gripping Nico’s hand tighter. He turned slightly to Annabeth. “Annabeth, I love—“

“Don’t.” She cut him off, voice shaky. “Don’t finish that. Don’t say it.” She swallowed, “You’ll say it to me there, then. When we see each other again, okay?”

Nico couldn’t see Percy’s face, but he could imagine the smile. The smile he reserved only for Annabeth, “Aye aye Captain.“

“Don’t die, please.” Annabeth barely looked at Nico as she spoke.

Percy responded, voice sounding weaker. “I promise.”

Faintly, Nico wondered how he could so easily promise such a thing to her. How easily he could believe such a thing. But in truth, it was because Percy truly had no idea the horrors that lay below. The unbeatable Hell they would be falling into.

Voices began to sound in the distance. Nico barely could register who they were coming from. The rest of the Seven he presumed, the back-up. They were too late.

Percy kept his eyes on Annabeth, tips of his fingers barely clinging onto the rocky surface. The Earth trembled greatly once again, Gaea’s own personal touch. He felt Percy’s grasp stumble, and then Nico fell, weightless once again.

He heard Annabeth and Hazel scream their names. Then the rush of air deafened any further words, darkness bleeding into view. Percy’s hand still held Nico’s ever so tightly.

“Percy.” Nico said in spite of himself, meeting that sea green gaze, “Percy.”

Percy looked at him, and Nico’s heart stopped. Nico’s own personal hero, his idol for so many years. Percy, who was unstoppable. Who smiled even if the odds were stacked against them, who faced any adversity no matter what. That was who Nico admired so deeply. But this Percy was different. Not the same one man army as before. Just a boy, Nico realized. A boy who looked terrified.

Nico hated Percy for doing this for him once again, for making him care so deeply.

What consolation could he offer? As they fell to what would most likely be the end. Nico didn’t know. He wanted to say something, to provide some comfort. Yet it was so loud, the silence.

Until the rush abruptly stopped.

A strong arm had wrapped around Nico’s shoulders. A rapid burst of movement pulled him upwards, fighting against the grip of the Pit.

Blonde hair, blue eyes, and black frames filled Nico’s vision. Nico’s face was right before that of Jason Grace, who was pulling him and Percy back to the surface.

“I got you.” He spoke deeply. Nico’s breath stuttered. Just like Percy, he was another picture of a hero. Throwing himself into danger.

And as they rose up, air pushed beneath them Nico’s hands holding onto Percy. Nico, in the rush of things, mistakenly felt hope.

But the fury of Tartarus was not so easily quenched.

Suddenly, they stopped rising upwards. The pull on them hardened, the pull from below. Jason’s efforts became uncoordinated, stifled, as the Pit sucked him down.

“Jason!” Voices rang out from the ledge, the Argo II image fleeting as they sunk further into Tartarus’s grip.

“Jason, man, what’s going on?” Percy said, sounding as in disbelief as Nico felt.

“I can’t—“ Jason Grace spoke again, this time with a voice filled with fear, “It’s too strong. I’m being pulled, I can’t fight it—“

The pull on them tightened like a noose, choking Jason out of any more words. Nico heard him cry out, and watched his blinding eyes glisten.

The ancient, formidable power of Evil wrapped around them. A feeling Nico was all too familiar with. And it continued to pull. Driving the sun out. Killing any chance of escape.

In one quiet instance, all demigod sons of the Big Three found themselves tethered together, condemned to the abyss.

Chapter Text

JASON

Jason wasn’t sure how long they had been falling.

He did, however, know that he was sick of it.

Each second, every minute. All of it was torture.

As time passed, the feeling of a thick coil wrapped itself around his stomach, squeezing him with a sickening tightness. Anticipation, that’s what it was. Anticipating what lay below. His throat felt heavy, as if his tongue was a massive paperweight. The realization of what had happened to them bore onto him increasingly as the clock ticked. The more they fell, the longer they fell, the worse it got. It could’ve been hours, and they still hadn’t reached solid ground.

Perhaps that was a good thing. Jason wasn’t sure if he wanted to reach the ground. Tartarus was something he had only heard of in passing, vague and unknown.

But he knew it was bad. So horribly bad. So frighteningly bad.

Jason faintly recalled seeing the Ambassador of Pluto—Son of Hades, whatever—a couple times back at Camp Jupiter. The younger boy had always been slight, dark, brooding. Then, he looked strong and intimidating enough to exude an aura of power.

Now, however, since they had come across the demigod in the jar, that power was gone. Nico Di Angelo looked close to disappearing with it.

Jason sought Di Angelo’s face in the darkness. He traced the outline of his sharp features, the Son of Pluto was staring off into space with a blank expression. Jason thought back to earlier, when Jason had grabbed onto him in an attempt to save him and Percy.

Jason had held him, and all he had felt were bones. He was so small, so evidently broken, with an intensity surrounding him that was so heavy. Jason couldn’t describe it, but he looked worse than mortal war veterans Jason had seen pictures of.

If going to Tartarus had destroyed Nico Di Angelo so cruelly, so clearly. What would happen a second time? What would happen to Jason, to Percy?

Such an awful thought had Jason feeling sicker than before.

As of now, the three had all grabbed onto each other. Arms slung over each others’ shoulders, clinging together for warmth. Jason could feel Percy’s strong hand wrapped around his bicep, Nico’s thin fingers clutching onto the fabric of his shirt. In a moment of strange, unfamiliar solidarity—Jason felt the closest to safe as he could. Yet, with all of them being so close, Jason also felt oh so small.

It was then that a sudden blast of heat knocked all the air out of Jason’s lungs.

PIPER

Leo, of course, was the first to break the silence.

Twelve hours had passed since Nico Di Angelo, Jason Grace, and Percy Jackson had all fallen into Tartarus.

All the remaining crew members sat below decks in the ship’s mess hall. Camp Half-Blood’s image was projected on the far front wall, looking more and more like a cruel taunt than a comforting reminder.

Piper had cried, destroyed her room. Felt hopeless.

But twelve hours had passed, and remarkably, she found that as much as she desperately wished for his presence—Jason Grace’s absence was something she was used to.

Hazel and Annabeth were a different story.

As they sat together, facing one another solemnly, the tension was so thick in the air Piper was sure she could cut through it using her dagger.

Annabeth sat to her left, with tired dark circles underneath her eyes and curls that had fallen from their usual princessy wave to a nest of frazzled coils. In front of her, Hazel and Frank sat as a pair. His large hand fully enveloping hers, with Hazel nestled into her seat, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Hazel hadn’t stopped crying since it happened.

Finally, Leo announced himself. He entered the room, swinging the door open with a grandiose bang. Piper had been the one to call this meeting in hopes that they all would’ve collected themselves enough to talk. Leo was late, which was a bad sign. She knew her friend well enough to see what he was doing—holing himself away in hopes of avoiding facing their odds. Odds which seemed impossible without Percy and Jason.

Odds that were uncertain, since the prophecy hadn’t been met.

Behind Leo, Buford the table accompanied him. Leo took a seat at the head, usually where Percy would’ve sat. Piper felt Annabeth stiffen at her side. He swung his legs onto Buford’s surface, evidently putting on a blasé front.

“So.” He started, “What’s the plan?”

Annabeth cracked her head towards him. Usually, she would have an answer. But Piper watched as her mouth opened slowly, then shut dryly afterwards. Hazel sobbed a little louder in volume. Frank looked miserable.

Piper felt miserable.

Leo’s eye twitched, “Okay. I get it. Big powerful dudes Percy and Jason are gone. Which sucks.” Hazel shot him a look, “Oh, yeah. Plus the Di Angelo kid. Fine. Fine, okay? But we can’t mope. Things may be seriously messed up, but this ship can’t run by itself. We’re the Seven, c’mon.”

“Or the five.” Piper heard Frank mumble.

Annabeth finally spoke up, her voice sounding wrecked, “They aren’t gone Leo. They’re in Tartarus. Do you know what that means?”

Leo winced, “Ah, well. Big bad scary place, right?”

They all deadpanned.

“Sorry, new to this demigod stuff.”

Annabeth shook her head, “It’s where all monsters are born, and where all monsters are strongest. Every dark creature to ever live in Greek and Roman mythology is down there. All powerful, unkillable. It’s not that it's dangerous, it’s that it is unsurvivable. Tartarus isn’t just a land of monsters, Tartarus itself is a primordial God. Nico made it out only because he was removed and tortured. No Demigod besides him has ever gone there and lived to tell the story. Now imagine three demigods. The three most powerful demigods of today’s age. Imagine the monsters that will come for them. That will stop at nothing to kill them. Tartarus itself will come for them.”

A pause.

“Wooahh…‘Kay.” Leo grinned awkwardly, “Right.”

Annabeth’s eyes blazed with a newfound fury, “Not just that. Even if they manage to find the Doors of Death, which appear randomly and have no predictable location, they will be met with… I don’t know—Thousands? Of vengeful monsters, waiting to return to the overworld. Gods, it’s just…I don’t know. Gods. I don’t know. It just, it should’ve been me.”

She sounded so tired and defeated Piper’s chest ached. She wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulders. Annabeth had come out of the situation the worst. A shattered ankle, a broken heart, and a wreck due to the guilt.

“If I hadn’t gotten stuck…” Annabeth continued. “I’m the daughter of Athena. I’m supposed to be smart! I didn’t notice it, how could I not—“

Frank shook his head, cutting her off. “No. It’s not your fault. Don’t say that. We all have gotten into bad situations before. The difference is if anybody else was in your situation, you would’ve done anything to save them. That’s less than what I can say, I can turn into a–a, I don’t even know. An eagle, a dragon. I can shapeshift and I didn’t react fast enough. Nico beat me, and he basically was half-dead. Nico chose to save you. All three of them did. Don’t blame yourself.” He rested his head in his hands, sounding exasperated with himself.

Piper also felt ashamed. She clearly recalled the instance Nico Di Angelo had leapt off the Argo II. They all had noticed Annabeth at the same time, in the midst of the shock and commotion however Piper couldn’t move. Nico was so much faster. Despite being malnourished, skeletal and extremely weak, he was the one who had saved her. When they had first rescued him from the Giant Twins, the Son of Hades hadn’t even been able to move. But like a wisp of darkness, he had flown through the cavern. He teleported—shadow traveled?—and saved Annabeth before even Percy had gotten there.

“Yes. Nico chose.” Hazel spoke through her tears, “and now he has to go back. He barely escaped with his life the first time, you all saw him. Now my brother has to go back.”

She broke into a fit of incessant crying. The sound was piercing, disconcerting. Frank rubbed her back.

“Fuck.” Annabeth shot a heavy glare at Hazel, “Can you stop that?”

Hazel looked up at her, a pained expression on her face. “How could you possibly tell me to be quiet?”

Piper winced. Annabeth bristled.

“I just… I’m sorry. I just can’t focus when you keep crying like that!” Annabeth shoved a fist into her hair, tugging on locks of blonde coils, “It’s not even the fact they are in Tartarus that’s the only issue. We have to meet them at the Doors of Death if they even have a chance of making it out. Us five, can we? I don’t know.”

Hazel shook her head, “The Prophecy.”

Piper ran a hand over her face, “I don’t get it. Aren’t prophecies supposed to be self-fulfilling? If we needed Nico, then why…?”

Annabeth shook her head, “There’s no telling. Usually they are, but I don’t know. All I know is either our interpretation was wrong, or…we failed. I’ve heard of quests being failed. It’s never good. Failure always comes with consequences.”

Leo whistled, “That’s an uplifting message.”

“Whatever the case.” Annabeth breathed, “Nico told Hazel she’ll be able to get us there. The Doors of Death in the overworld.”

Hazel wiped her face and nodded, assuming a steely expression, “Epirus.”

“Cool.” Leo said, “So you know where to go? Why are we so worried again?”

Piper glared at Leo while Hazel replied, “No Leo. I don’t know where to go. The only reason why we even have an idea of where they are is because Nico found them. How to get inside, I have no idea. He said…he said he’ll find a way to tell me.”

Annabeth banged her hands on the table, causing Frank to startle. Piper watched Leo grin in his face, but before anybody could question Annabeth’s actions the daughter of Athena abruptly stood up.

“Well, isn’t that helpful.” She said bitterly. Hazel narrowed her eyes. “We have no clue where to go.”

“What is wrong with you right now?” Hazel asked, also moving to stand up.

Suddenly, an atmosphere of animosity filled the room. Annabeth and Hazel faced one another, glaring deeply. Piper felt a chill run down her spine. The two boys were glancing nervously at her. Annabeth looked furious, but it wasn’t her who felt dangerous. Despite the height and age difference, Hazel was the one who radiated energy. Something dark, and something angry.

Piper almost forgot she was a child of the Big Three as well.

“What’s wrong with me?” Annabeth shot back, “What’s wrong with you? Nico is in Tartarus. And you expect him to tell you where to go? How? Huh?”

Hazel scowled, “I trust him. He’s my big brother. How can you not trust him? Not trust me?”

“Oh pssh.” Annabeth rolled her eyes, “That means nothing right now. My boyfriend is down there, so is Piper’s. We have no idea if they are even alive. Our problems extend past them. Trust doesn’t matter if Nico is maybe dead now anyways.”

Hazel went still. Piper felt her skin prickle unsettlingly. This was wrong. She stood up, feeling her charmspeak slither onto her tongue as she opened her mouth to speak “Stop—“

“He saved you.” Hazel said, brokenly, “He saved your life. He saved you when he should’ve saved himself. And you don’t trust him?”

Annabeth’s fury evidently dissipated from her face. She looked pale. Her face crumbled.

“Hazel.” She began, “I—“

But it was too late. Hazel shook her head, cutting Annabeth off. Piper could only watch silently as she gave Annabeth one last disappointed glance before stepping out of the mess hall, taking that terrifying aura with her.

Annabeth watched her leave. “Oh fuck.” She muttered.

Before Piper could say anything, Annabeth too rushed out of the room in the opposite direction.

Piper’s shoulders collapsed and she slumped back into her seat. Leo looked at her with a shockingly serious expression.

“Pipes…” He began.

“This is so fucked up.” Piper responded

Frank had his eyes closed, seemingly collecting himself before he abruptly stood up and began to make his way towards the door. Going after Hazel, Piper presumed.

“Wait.” She said,

He stopped and turned, “…What?”

“I’ll go get her.” Piper said, “Might be good to let her know that there’s at least one Greek on her side.”

Frank hesitated, but eventually nodded. He even looked relieved.

Piper turned to Leo, “Go to Annabeth.”

Leo turned around before looking back and pointing at himself, “Me?”

“Yes you. Just trust me on this.”

She then left to go hunt down a daughter of Pluto.

PERCY

Percy woke up. Unfortunately.

The first thing he could register was the fact that his head hurts like hell.

Which is saying something, since he’s pretty sure his entire life up until this point has been one big headache.

Whatever the case, as he lies on the (sharp?) ground (sand?) with his eyes screwed tightly shut, his head is pounding, reverberating the rhythm of his rapid heartbeat. The air around them is thick. Smelling rancid. Percy tries to breathe from his mouth to avoid the disgusting scent only to choke on the air.

All he can breathe is the horrific, protruding air of death.

Finally, he opens his eyes. Turns his head, and finds himself facing the reflection of his own face. A shard of glass is before him, acting as a mirror. He’s lying on a bed of glass.

He forces himself to straighten, gently pushing his body upwards slowly to avoid pressing down on the shattered glass beach. He knows it’s a beach, because he can sense the river before him. Its dark waters are churning with wicked riptides, unwelcoming and treacherous.

Percy loves water, but not whatever this is.

He tries to gauge his surroundings, focusing on what is closest to him and not where they are.

You’re in Tartarus. A traitorous voice in his head whispers, reminding him. Percy chooses to ignore it.

A couple feet to his right is Jason. Groaning, but already sitting up. He looks as rough as Percy feels, several surface cuts on his arms that were bleeding out and presumably from the glass beach. Otherwise, he seemed alright. That was one. So where was the other?

Where was Nico?

Percy swept his eyes forward. Down the slope in front of him was a dark heap, radiating shadows. Percy watched as Nico, barely visible, was on his hands and knees. His body was trembling furiously, and darkness seemed to expel from every point of his body—shooting in all directions. Percy felt a chill go down his spine.

Jason stopped groaning and seemed to have noticed Nico as well. They both stopped everything for a moment, and barely above the roar of the black river could they hear Nico’s breathing.

Immediately, Percy knew something was terribly wrong.

They watched as Nico began to convulse, mouth wrenched open.

Jason was the first to act.

“Di Angelo. Hey.” He said, “Are you okay?”

The Son of Hades didn’t seem to hear anything at all. His dark eyes were trained to the ground, and his whole body shook. He was making a faint gagging sound, heard in between the harsh inhales he took. He sounded like he could not breathe. Like he was really, truly dying.

Percy tried to stand, “Nico. Hey. Nico.”

The second time Percy said his name, the dark-haired boy flinched violently. The shaking ceased, a moment of cold quietude. It broke, only for the Son of Hades to let loose a guttural sob.

Jason and Percy simultaneously winced. They watched helplessly as Nico screamed rawly at the ground, as he clenched his fists in the glass and blood seeped from his hands.

Then it all fell eerily silent.

Nico still didn’t look at him. Didn’t look at Jason. But he was inhumanly quiet, so much so that Percy once again knew that something was terribly wrong.

The Son of Hades got to his feet, looking impossibly small. He was still trembling as he walked, walking towards the black river with a tortured resolve.

Towards the river.

Like a man approaching death.

Chapter Text

NICO

Nico’s first intake of air was a breath of relief.

Before he felt the poison bloom in his lungs.

Such a horribly familiar feeling. How Tartarus plants a seed within you the second you arrive. The feeling of those dreadful flowers growing, florets of cruelty curling around your lungs, choking you.

After that first breath, it doesn’t take long to realize what you’ve lost. The oxygen of the overworld. The air of home. Tartarus takes any reminder of safety from you, filling your body with its venom. Bleeding itself into your bloodstream, until every part of you can only remember what it feels like to be in pain—until it stops hurting.

Nico found that he had reached his threshold, to the point where he stopped hurting.

Now that he realized such a thing, a newfound resolve flooded into him. Nico wasn’t willing to see how Tartarus could remove that threshold this time. Remove it and make him hurt again.

He was so sick of pain.

The first step was the heaviest.

He could see the Cocytus. The River of Lamentation. The River of Wailing.

Until he could not.

Until he could only hear the voices.

And they sounded so alike to his own.

JASON

The first thing Jason could deduce was that his eardrums had definitely ruptured.

He vaguely remembered summoning the winds, allowing them to wrap around himself alongside Percy and Nico in order to pull them to the ground before gravity took its course. He had done so just in time.

Then he remembered the fire. How the air exploded around them before it all went black.

Next thing he knew, he woke up. His arms were impaled by shards of glass, rivulets of blood streaming down his biceps. His shoulder and neck burned with an ache of pain and he figured something had dislocated. Then there was the ringing. An incessant sound, clouding his hearing and penetrating his skull. He screwed his eyes tightly shut, willing the overwhelming pressure in his head to vanish.

After what felt like the worst five minutes of his life, Jason could hear a distant voice. His hearing was muffled, like he was listening to a conversation by pressing his ear up against a wall. He strained harder to make out any words, a syllable even.

“Nico—” He heard faintly, before everything came back in one jarring moment. Percy’s voice rang out in the clearing with a vivid intensity: “STOP!”

Jason’s eyes flew open, only to immediately sting in pain. Poison. The air was poisonous, if his watering eyes could tell him anything. Before him, he saw Percy’s figure barely visible in the darkness, the glimmer of the Son of Poseidon’s green eyes reflecting in all the shards of glass. His tattered form coming back to Jason in the fragmented image of a kaleidoscope.

Percy looked how he felt. His orange Camp Half-Blood shirt was charred and torn. The sliver of his stomach that was visible sported a deep gash. One of his pant legs was missing up until the knee, the flesh beneath blackened. Green eyes gleaming desperately as he called for Di Angelo.

Di Angelo, Jason realized, who was walking forward as though he could not hear nor see anything at all.

Jason watched, paralyzed, as the Son of Hades approached the black rapids in front of him. Each step he took was heavy, wordlessly like a monk and with the faith of a priest.

Percy swung his head in Jason’s direction, “Jason—Get up.”

Before Jason knew it, he was on his feet. As he steadied himself, he felt his arm dangle limp at his side. A sharp pain shot up his spine, eliciting a cry of pain from his lips. He ignored the pain and surged forward, watching intently as Percy grabbed onto Nico from behind—hugging his shoulders.

“I did not save you up there just for you to kill yourself, Nico!” Percy said, somehow only sounding mildly outraged despite the horrified expression painted onto his face, “What are you doing?”

Jason was only a couple feet away now, bits of glass digging into his burnt shoes. He was close enough to see Nico’s lips move but was unable to register any sound, though Percy’s face morphed into a scowl.

“I am not letting go of you.” The Son of Poseidon said.

Nico had been still, almost statuesque, before he suddenly began to strain against Percy’s arms. Percy stumbled forward, unprepared for the immediate change in movement. Nico grabbed onto his hands, clawing at Percy’s grip almost animalistically. Jason watched in horror as…shadows began to literally crawl out of Nico di Angelo.

He couldn’t believe his eyes.

Nico’s eyes bulged, nostrils flaring as his mouth flew agape. His lips contorted, and he looked as though he was letting loose a guttural scream. Jason felt it, like it was a phantom sound, and he wasn’t sure if due to his damaged hearing he didn’t hear anything, but no sound left the Son of Hades’ mouth. Instead, what began to extricate itself violently from each and every orifice on the boy’s face were shadowy appendages. Arms. Tearing him apart from the inside.

“Let go of me.”

Nico’s voice was not his own. Instead, the words were spoken in an uncanny timbre. Several octaves deeper than normal.. Unhuman, and terrifying. Jason felt a wave of fear wash over him, almost knocking him backward. It had a similar effect on Percy, who staggered.

The sickening sensation gave Jason a sense of deja vu, reminding him of something he learned back at Camp Half-Blood during his stay. Something about Hades’ helm.

Percy’s hands flew off of Nico’s body. More like ripped off. Percy looked shocked, almost as if an unnatural force caused this movement, like a puppet being pulled from its inertia by strings.

Nico began to move forward again, unflinchingly. Jason remained paralyzed by fear. Another wave of hatred radiated off of Di Angelo. Hitting Jason and Percy like a truck.

The Son of Poseidon was unprepared to take the hit. He fell backwards onto the broken surface. He landed awkwardly, twisting his already bad leg even further. Jason flinched violently, watching as Percy’s mouth opened. Even though Jason couldn’t hear it, he knew there was an audible sound coming from Percy Jackson. Screaming.

Only inches away from the river then did Nico di Angelo stop his pursuit of death.

The scrawny demigod whipped around, feathery hair flying wildly around his face as the poisonous winds increased in amplitude. He looked at Jason with that hollow gaze, before catching sight of Percy on the beach. Pale. Bloody.

The shadowy hands dissipated.

Nico di Angelo’s face promptly crumbled.

Percy looked up, color returning to his face as their eyes met.

“Ah.” He started, grinning despite it all. “There you are.”

LEO

Leo watched Piper’s form disappear at the door frame, and after waiting at least ten seconds to ensure she wouldn’t be back to yell at him, he sagged his shoulders and slouched further down in his chair. He could feel Frank’s gaze on him. Weighing down on him with blatant judgment.

“Dude.” He groaned, “Do you really have to stare at me?”

Frank frowned harder, looking like a really sad teddy bear, “Aren’t you going to do what she said?”

“Are you serious?” Leo mumbled, “Pipes’ not the boss bro. Technically, Annabeth is supposed to be the boss. So really, I’m not required to do anything. I’m just the designated helpful mechanic. Not the therapist.”

Leo flashed his winning smile at him, toothy enough to get anybody off his back. Unfortunately, Frank Zhang was not just anybody. Leo had to give it to him and Hazel, they were one stubborn couple.

“If you won’t go, I guess I will,” Frank said, pushing his chair back. He began to stand.

Leo almost let him go, until he heard the tone in Frank’s voice. It wasn’t angry. It sounded… disappointed.

Oh no.

Leo found himself shaking his head. No, no, no. Leo Valdez might be a lot of things, but he was not a disappointment.

“Wait,” he said quickly, cutting Frank off before he could walk out. “You got me, Zhang.”

Frank paused mid-step. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Leo snorted. “For today, you adorably buff Canadian, you must refer to me as Doctor Valdez.”

Before Frank could admonish him on the horrific joke, Leo shot up from his seat. Suddenly energized by a rush of adrenaline (alongside the 500 milligrams of caffeine he already consumed that morning) Leo slapped Frank on the back.

“Bye-bye!” He winked, “Hang out with Buford for me, won't cha?

And with that he left behind a grumpy looking Frank Zhang with his trusty table to go find a distraught daughter of Athena.

Speaking of—where would one find a daughter of Athena?

Leo pondered this, fiddling with the Archimedes sphere as he wandered the empty hallways. He still hadn’t figured out any of the tech's nitty-gritty details. That, combined with the chaos of yesterday, had been seriously stressing him out. Add in no sleep, and he was very much Not Thriving™.

He didn’t know what Piper expected him to say in all honesty. He and Annabeth had known each other for some time, but that girl was real serious. She never seemed to put up with Leo’s antics for long, and even though she had lightened up a bit when Percy was around, she was always still laser-focused about completing whatever mission they had to do

So yeah. Friendly? Sure. Close? Not really.

Now, with Percy gone... Leo had no clue how to talk to her—much less resonate with her or whatever it was therapists were supposed to do.

Yeah, scratch the whole Doctor Valdez bit.

Friendly mechanic would have to do.

As he walked lonesomely through the windowless halls of the ship, he felt a sudden chill run up his spine. This ship, he realized, his ship—was undeniably creepy. Leo found himself stopping every couple of seconds to check behind him. He loved the Argo II with his all (like anything he built), but his mami had told him enough scary stories growing up to not not be paranoid.

“Annabeth,” he whimpered into the dark. “Can you please not hide from the very charming Leo Valdez trying to talk to you?”

Something creaked behind him.

Leo let out a very uncouth wail.

He whirled around, only to find nothing. Just an empty hallway. Leo let out a shaky sigh. He really should’ve brought Buford.

Leo walked down a set of stairs, glancing left and right. He rubbed his arms, willing them to warm up and trying to trick himself into thinking his biceps were triple their current size. He was about to pass a set of doors before he heard a sudden thump from behind them.

immediately, every inch of him began to sweat.

“H-Hello?” He asked, goosebumps rising on his arms, “...Annabeth…Is that you—aaaaHHHHAah!”

The doors swung open, an outstretched arm from the darkness gripped onto his shirt collar and yanked him inside.

Leo screamed bloody murder. In the milliseconds before death, he began mentally drafting his will—everything to Festus and the siblings back home in Cabin 9. Harley would love his tool belt, at least.

“OH GODS,” He shrieked, cracking one eye open. “PLEASE, I’LL DO ANY—....Oh.”

Annabeth stood there in front of him.

Leo realized where they were. The stables, of course. He watched her lips twitch, barely suppressing a grin. Leo sat there on the ground, disheveled and looking up at her. She raised an eyebrow, and he laughed sheepishly.

“Annabeth. Yeah, I knew you were here. Duh. I was just screaming to warn you in case you didn’t realize that your, ahem, shadow… was behind you.”

The daughter of Athena gave him a bemused glance, “Of course. Thanks Leo.”

She turned back to peer out the stable’s observatory windows. She sat down, watching the massive waves crash beneath them in the abnormally rough Mediterranean sea.

Leo had charted a slower route to Greece earlier, hoping to avoid any magical confrontation till the crew recovered. But now, even above the ocean—which had always felt safer when Percy was aboard—it was like the sea itself could sense the absence of the Son of Poseidon

Leo apprehensively got to his feet, moving over to sit next to Annabeth. A respectful distance of course, cuz he’d never do that to his bro Perce. Definitely not because he was nervous to be close to an unstable Annabeth Chase. Nope, no, not at all. Haha.

They sat there, a heavy silence settling between them. The stables were dark, only illuminated by the occasional glimpse of moonlight and the lightning that flashed across the stormy sea. As rain pattered against the ship’s hull, Annabeth’s face lit up from a crack of thunder, highlighting the grit in her jaw. Leo nervously fiddled with his toolbelt, the sphere still clutched in his right hand.

Yeah, this definitely wasn’t awkward at all.

Annabeth, the more sensible of the two, eventually broke the silence, “Did you figure out how to use it yet?”

Leo shrugged, “Nah, this thing befuddles me. Like, for real.”

Annabeth giggled, Leo glanced, surprised, then flashed a small lopsided grin.

“What’d I say?” He asked, “Is befuddled not a word or something?”

“Sorry, no, you’re fine.” She said, still slightly smiling, “It’s just the way you said it.”

“Making fun of my voice?”

“No!” She laughed lightly. The sound was nice coming from her, especially since he hadn’t heard her laugh in ages. Leo already felt better about talking to her. “No, I’m sorry.”

Her expression turned solemn, and she turned back towards the sea. Leo saw how stiff her shoulders were as she wrapped her arms around her legs. Annabeth had always seemed like such an untouchable person, so self-assured and wise, really. He sometimes felt like she was way older than him given how mature she was.

But here, now, she looked how he felt. Unsure, young, scared.

“I’m sorry.” Annabeth repeated quietly, emotion tugging at her words

“Hey, don’t apologize,” Leo began, but the daughter of Athena cut him off.

“I just—” Annabeth shook her head, “I can’t believe I said that to her. To Hazel. Like I doubt her, like I doubt Nico. Like I doubt all of you guys. I'm so sorry. I’m just, I can’t…”

“Annabeth. It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” Her voice cracked. She sounded anguished, “It’s really not. I’m trying to hold myself together, I really am. But the reason why they’re down there is because of me. Me, because I failed. I failed Leo. And I’m taking it out on all of you.”

Leo angled himself towards her, and without thinking he found himself handing her the Archimedes sphere. She looked at it for a second, furrowing her eyebrows. “Okay… Stop talking. Use it like a, um, stress ball.”

Annabeth gave him a look.

“It may not be squishy but it's totally round.” He supplied helpfully.

There was a pause.

“Okay, yeah. I’m not really good at this comforting stuff.” Leo said, “But here me out, okay?”

She grimaced, but nodded.

“What you said to Hazel, definitely not cool. Definitely not right. But, she won’t hate you for it. None of us will. You’re stressed, we’re all stressed. We get it. We understand how you feel, and we know why you said what you said because we understand. You’re not the only person who is concerned. Everybody is worried if Hazel will be able to lead us to Epirus, and you only voiced it because it was too hard to not say anything. You’re hurt, that’s why you lashed out. It’s not your fault. It’s…It’s a ton of pressure right now, to be in charge.”

“To be in charge.” She echoed bitterly, “It’s just…I usually can do it, you know. I’m never—never this frazzled.” She spat out the word like a curse, “But here I am, being cruel to people and clumsy. All because my boyfriend is gone, again. Honestly, feminists would hate me if they could see me now.”

Leo snorted, “Oh, screw feminism.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I’m such a feminist! All the ladies love Leo.” He insisted before sighing, “But what I’m trying to say is that it’s okay to be weak right now. Hell, I’ve also been crying over Jason like I’m the one dating him. Don’t tell Piper though.”

Annabeth was smiling again, which Leo took to be a good sign to continue.

“And do not call yourself a failure. That big ass statue taking up half these stables is enough to prove that wrong. She wouldn’t be here without you.” He gestured behind them, only to accidentally meet the creepy gaze of Annabeth’s oversized mother, “Geez, how can you sit in here with that thing?”

“Mom definitely knows how to make me feel judged.” Annabeth shrugged, “It’s just, whatever. Thank you for saying that Leo. But, I don’t think I can forgive myself so easily just yet.”

Almost as if to prove her point, she flexed her ankle. The very ankle that had caught her in that web, the web that had threatened to pull her into the depths of Tartarus. The web she had to be saved from. Annabeth stared at her foot like she’d rather cut it off then be forced to look at the reminder.

“You don’t need to.” Leo said, “You’re not supposed to be perfect. You’re flawed, we all are. That’s the thing about people I guess. When it comes to machines, flaws make them faulty. Make them inoperable. But for us, flaws make us who we are. How we operate is how we handle those flaws.”

Annabeth watched him for a moment.

“That was surprisingly…wise.” She muttered, “You sure you’re not Athena’s kid?”

“I appreciate the compliment, but I don’t think your mom would like that question very much. Given Hephaestus’ big fat crush on her, ya know.” He glanced back at the statue, which seemed to somehow be radiating an aura of disapproval.

“Right.” Annabeth laughed—really laughed this time, Then her expression sobered again. “Leo, I think I need you to do me a favor.”

“Shoot.”

“I know I’m good at managing the team. Or, I used to be. But right now, I really can’t. I can’t think. And without being able to think, I’m essentially useless. I don’t want to hurt people anymore, not like I did with Hazel. I need time. But we don’t have time. So…If it isn’t too much, I’d like it if you could maybe take charge. Be the Captain. Lead the team, and do whatever it takes to help Hazel get us to the Doors of Death.”

Leo’s vocal chords seemed to tie around one another, forcing any words from his throat. He let out a small, choked noise. Immediately, he felt the urge to say no. To run away, run away from the expectation like he was used to. Like every home he ran from.

She doesn’t know that you don’t belong. A voice in his ear whispered, She hasn’t realized yet that you’re not good enough. You can’t do this, just say no.

Just run.

But the look Annabeth was giving him, a look that was simultaneously begging and trusting—he couldn’t possibly run away from it. Not when she needed him most now.

He shut the voice off and straightened his shoulders. Mustering the courage, he met her gaze with a steely version of his own.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

She smiled at him earnestly, “Thank you.”

He returned the smile, before dusting his knees and standing up. “Okay well, before we get back to staring off into the ocean and properly moping, I have a feeling in this weather your mom is gonna start rolling around on my deck. Let’s find some rigs and tie her down.”

“Aye aye Captain.”

PERCY

After successfully navigating their way away from the scary black river and towards the jagged, angry red landscape of Tartarus, Nico was currently mowing down a set of withered harpies. Due to Percy’s bad leg—which he still couldn’t remember how he got so badly burnt—he was currently using Jason as a crutch, clinging onto the Son of Jupiter’s one good shoulder. For what felt like hours now, they had been slowly limping forward as Nico fought an endless onslaught of monsters. Not a single one of them had said a word, not since the river.

After Nico saw the extent of Percy’s injuries, he had snapped out of whatever suicidal funk he had been in. Percy was actually a little bit touched by it, knowing that Nico actually cared enough about him to regain his senses upon seeing him hurt. He’d be teasing the kid right now about it if he wasn’t so shaken by the whole incident himself. Seeing Nico like that was terrifying, and until they could find a safe place to go, he wasn’t sure he was ready to mention it just yet.

He remembered how Nico’s face crumpled up, how he had begun to silently sob, staring at Percy. How even now, after wordlessly instructing Jason and Percy to follow him away from that beach, after hours of fighting monsters had passed, it still hasn’t stopped.

Nico di Angelo hasn’t stopped crying.

Even now, as Nico battled the monsters without even breaking a sweat, Percy found himself growing more and more concerned for the younger demigod. Nico somehow, against all odds, had recovered enough energy to fight despite having been starved for a week in a jar. Despite having already been stuck in the wasteland of Tartarus for Gods’ only know how long. Percy didn’t know how he was doing it, but he was overwhelmed with a fear that the Son of Hades may literally just keel over at any second now.

As the last Harpy dissipated, turning into a watery shadow and then being sucked into Nico’s Stygian Iron sword, Jason’s eyes widened. The Son of Jupiter had been intently watching Nico fight this entire time, visibly dazzled by the Son of Hades’ effortless agileness and impeccable swordsmanship (that Percy definitely did not want to admit was almost as good as his own).

“He is so cool.” Jason said, stage-whispering to Percy who grinned in response.

“Yeah,” Percy said in the same stage-whisper, “taught him everything I know.”

Nico glanced back at both of them, evidently unimpressed. Percy noted the tear stains on his cheeks, looking almost as permanent as scars.

For a moment before they continued, Nico stared off into the sky. Or, what would be the sky if there was one in Tartarus. Percy followed his gaze, but above them he could only see a mist. A dense, thick and faintly bloodied mist. Besides the occasional angry streak of red lightning or the jarring sounds of screeches coming from whatever wicked winged monsters flew above them, Percy saw nothing. Yet every time he examined the Son of Hades’ expression, Nico di Angelo looked absolutely horrified. His eyes each time were impossibly wide, shattered like a tesseract.

Like he was seeing something the other two couldn’t.

“Come on.” The Son of Hades rasped, breaking Percy away from his thoughts. He inhaled a deep breath of the acidic air Percy could hardly take in, likely more used to breathing it anyways, “We’re almost there.”

“Where are we going?” Jason asked.

Nico rolled his shoulders forward, steadying himself. With his emaciated form however, he looked so terribly small.

“The River Phlegethon.”