WORLDS BEYOND ( pjo )

𝐱𝐢𝐢: hide the sun

It hadn't quite sunk in yet for him.

They roamed around the place silently and in a zombie-like state, each top absorbed in their thoughts. At the edge of the dump, Thalia had had enough of an awareness to spot a truck that looked worn way past its guarantee, but the piece of junk actually roared to life with the turn of the ignition and had a tank full of gas, and so they all piled in.

Thalia drove, seeming to be the least stunned about what happened out of the six—no, five of them.

"The skeletons are still out there," she reminded them. "We need to keep moving."

Zoë sat in front with Thalia, and that left Kia, Grover and Percy to squeeze together in the back. They leaned against the tow wench, Percy's eyes trailing up lifelessly to the sunny blue skies and perfectly cool air, the bright sand stretching miles around them; Percy couldn't find it within himself to take it in, it was just insulting considering Bianca had just died.

His hand tightened unknowingly around something. He relaxed his palm to see the figurine that had cost Bianca her life. It was so disfigured and soot-covered that Percy couldn't even tell which god it was. He figured Nico could probably tell, though.

And then it hit him, coming down on him like a shower of meteors.

What was he going to tell Nico?

Percy had torn himself apart trying to convince himself that Bianca was alive somewhere, probably a little miffed to have her friends abandon her, but still as bright as ever, however much you could be as a demigod. Despite all the efforts, he could feel it somewhere in his body that Bianca was gone for good.

In a way, his illusion cracking was probably worse than just accepting she was dead. It was like convincing yourself you were just a step away from reaching the top of an endless mountain, just to fall back into the lake below; it would've been better to just stay at the bottom.

"It should have been me," Percy muttered to himself in frustration. "I should've gone into the giant."

"Don't say that!" Grover panicked. "It's bad enough Annabeth is gone, and now Bianca. Do you think I could stand it if..." He sniffled. "Do you think anybody else would be my best friend?"

"Ah, Grover..."

He wiped under his eyes with an oily cloth that left his face grimy, like he had on war paint. "I'm... I'm okay."

He definitely wasn't. Ever since the encounter in New Mexico from the rubber rat to the birds on the cup to the wild boar, Grover seemed really fragile, more emotional than he'd usually be. Percy had thought about talking to Grover about it, but he was afraid he'd start bawling; it hurt Percy to see his best friend so sad.

"Grover's right," Kia said quietly from beside Percy.

Percy was surprised to hear her talk. Her reaction of Bianca's death was rather... sedate than expected. She barely spoke to anyone, only replying with one worded answers and head shakes or nods. Not that she spoke all that much anyway, but her face usually gave off some sort of expression, but ever since the junkyard, she'd been a blank slate, like she was dragging herself along. The only thing she'd done was stare vacantly at the concrete while a few tears slipped down her face. Percy had reached out to maybe run her back or comfort her, but he was scared he'd trigger something and retracted his hand.

He looked at her unsurely; he thought she was probably saying it out of courtesy.

She didn't move from her position, looking up at the clouds, and Percy suspected it was because she didn't want to cry. "I mean it, by the way." Her voice was strained. "There was no way you could have saved her."