Nexus

The Breakdown

A few more weeks of Fall passed, and Percy got a package of blue cookies for Thanksgiving. He'd cast a multiplication charm on them to hand out to his students. The weather grew colder and the students got busier as midterm exams approached. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had less time to spend with Percy, and he likewise had little free time. He was constantly planning lessons, grading work, meeting with the teachers and Minerva, and going to St. Mungo's for treatment.

He'd had a few sessions with a Healer so far, but Percy didn't find them very helpful. He just talked about his work and business at Hogwarts, but felt uncomfortable. The Healer just stared and listened to him, and Percy ended up feeling like he was ranting to a blank wall about boring adult things.

His health had deteriorated even more over the last few weeks. Percy frequently forgot simple things, like deadlines, conversations, and the like. He'd taken to keeping a notebook with him and writing down important things so he could reference it when he forgot. He would forget lesson plans and even slip up in the middle of staff meetings. He worried about his mind more than anything. If the surgery was successful, would his memory come back? Or would it just be like this forever? He was absolutely miserable. It felt like his sense of self was being shredded with each new thing he forgot.

Percy also had worsening motor skills. He would do his daily practice with Riptide in his classroom with increasing difficulty. Sometimes his muscles would spasm and he'd drop whatever he was holding. Other times, his muscles were incredibly weak and fatigued.

His memory and physical training were declining. His identity and swordsmanship ability, two huge elements of his sense of self, were being lost. Percy felt like a heaviness weighed on him constantly. He was too miserable to do anything anymore. He didn't want to teach class, to hang out with his friends, to practice with Riptide, or to swim in the lake. Nothing gave him much joy anymore, he was just...numb.

As far as he knew, there had been no word from George. Ron had written his brother weeks ago with no reply, so Percy guessed his idea had been way too much way too soon.

After a particularly horrible episode in which Percy's head hurt so badly he threw up for two hours straight, he got an IM from his cousin. Nico had looked panicked when the mist formed in Percy's bedroom, where he was collapsed on the side of his bed, body curled around a soiled trashcan. He was sweaty, shaky, and certainly looked awful. He'd passed out briefly a few minutes previously.

"Percy!" Nico had cried as soon as the connection formed. "What's going on? I swear I felt—"

He was interrupted by Percy heaving into the trashcan again. His head was splitting and nauseating.

"Percy!" Nico demanded, eyebrows creased with worry. "Tell me what the Hades is wrong with you right now! Two minutes ago I felt you near Hades so I swear to the gods if you don't—!"

"I'm okay, Nico!" Percy gasped, wiping his face was a shirt on the floor.

"Don't bullshit me, Jackson!" The younger boy snapped. "I will shadow travel to you if you don't tell me the truth in five seconds."

Percy pushed himself into a leaning position against the bed. "Fine! Geez." He quickly explained the injury and situation to the son of Hades.

Nico looked deeply troubled, and Percy understood what he was thinking exactly. Demigods died from monster attacks and battles all the time. But something like this...

"Have you contacted any Apollo demigods? Hades, have you messaged Apollo?"

Percy winced, closing his eyes from a wave of nausea. "Will and his siblings are great, but you know this isn't within their power. And Apollo wouldn't be able to do anything. He just got reinstated on Olympus—Zeus would take him down again if he interfered in mortal stuff. You know how it is."