Ichor

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102479

He doesn't mean it surely. But there's something ingrained in his pubescent mind where the mere sight of beauty entices him, but not to the point where the son of Poseidon is aware of it.

Well, until it's too late.

Sometimes there's that guilt building up in the pit of his stomach, the acid clawing in the insides, and those chemicals swirling around until his head is pounding and maybe he really should've paid attention in science to know what the hell is happening in the biological aspect of his life. Percy knows better, after all, that he's a demigod and there isn't really anything normal about this. Plus, there are two immortal maidens dressed in silver that dismisses his presence most of the time and the punk rock cousin that used to be a tree and his half-goat best friend traveling with him to save Annabeth.

And Lady Artemis, too, of course.

Maybe he never catches himself staring far too long as the freckles speckled across one of Artemis' eternal maidens, mind you, or the way his head just nods to her words, slightly accented from a time that he cannot place, and maybe in between the slants of moonlight from the pine trees filter, Percy Jackson may have developed the tiniest crush on Bianca di Angelo.

Nico comes back to view in his sub-conscious mind, the ten-year-old boy wrapping his hand around the figurine, with eyes that remind him too much of somebody he's met but can't quite place, and his voice becoming a little shrill after telling him to take care of his sister. There's something about the two siblings that gives Percy off a strange sort of vibe, one that makes him feel the warmth of their smiles to the soles of his feet and the tips of his ears. There's power underneath, he knows this like the way he knows his own bones, and they were dangerous, and maybe there's this kind of energy that soars through his fingers and through his veins whenever his skin brushes against the daughter of the unknown god and when he remembers the smile of her brother. If they were this powerful by themselves, he can't imagine what kind of miracle (or disaster) they can cause together.

And as Bianca di Angelo looks at him with fearful eyes, her mouth pursed and her dark-hair strangled into a braid, the silvery-glow starts to fade from her olive-toned skin.

"One of us is going to do it," she whispers to him, her fingers clenching around the golden figurine that caused all of the trouble in the first place. "And there's no way in Hades that I would let you die on my account."

Percy starts sputtering excuses and putting together half-hearted plans to save her because that's what he's supposed to be, right? A goddamned hero. But maybe you can't save all of the soldiers from the home front, because they need to save all the others too.

In the end he lets her go, her dark eyes searching for the stars, climbing across the mountains of golden machinery. There's this feeling in the pit of stomach again, something he would like to think was guilt rising to let her risk her life for him. It fills him with compunction and a little bit of awe, and that feeling stays with him for the rest of his life because how often does another person save the hero?

He watches her grace the floor, lips purses and eyes smoldering with that bold determination to win this war by ending a battle. And Bianca di Angelo turns on her toe just as Percy slices an automaton's arm.

"Take care of my brother for me."

He looks up and she's running towards the machine now, Talos clawing for his feet. And there's a big shuddering gasp from inside the being, and electricity fires in all directions, sending his scrambling for safety. And then he breathes hard, fingers clawing at the dirt, watching in terror as the machine explodes in golden dust, raining bronze around him. His eyes catch on the golden glint of the figurine in the corner of his vision and he crawls toward it, tucking it in the pocket of his jacket, making a note to give it to Nico when they get back. If they get back, that is.

Oh, crap. The two siblings' words overlap with each other in his mind, only the brother and sister parts used interchangeably. That's when Percy Jackson kneels down defeated, his body shuddering from fearful cries and rising frustration.

--

And when he recalls his meeting with Aphrodite before he passes out to go to bed, he thinks that her eyes look a little bit like Bianca's, strangely determined when there seems like no hope.

Well, it's not like he notices this day-old revelation.

Until it's too goddamn late.

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