PERSEUS MEANS DESTROYER

Softcore

Are we too young for this?

Feels like I can't move.

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He was sitting on a picnic rug in the Long Island Sound, with Annabeth.

The sky was clear and bright and blue and in all honesty, he thought it was the perfect day for a date with a perfect girl.

The sun was high in the sky and Annabeth was laughing at something he had said.

He wasn't sure if it was something stupid or something funny but her head was tipped back, grey eyes closed, mouth upturned and open, hair flowing like molten gold down her back and that was all that mattered at the moment.

She was happy.

And then it was gone. The clear sky clouded over faster than either of them could blink, and rain poured down from the heavens in great, icy sheets. The lower parts of the land flooded quickly, and the water levels just kept rising.

He and Annabeth were pulled under, grappling to keep a hold of each other while she held her breath.

They resurfaced in the Cocytus. He had pulled his hand out of the water, one on her shoulder, the other resting on her cheek.

Annabeth coughed and spat out something that might have been blood, sobbing and screaming.

He dragged her to the beach, landing harshly on the broken glass sand, trying to get her to her feet.

"Percy," she managed, "Percy stop, you're scaring me, please—"

She stumbled away from him in terror, pulling away from his touch, smoke rolling off her shoulders, her face hollowing out, and suddenly she looked so much more dead than anything alive ever should.

His voice was croaky when he called out to her. "Annabeth...? Annabeth I'm sorry I swear just—" His voice broke. "Please. Come back."

She shook her head vigorously.

His breath shortened and he fell to his knees again, crashing hard into the broken–glass beach, slicing up his jeans and legs.

When he looked up, Annabeth was gone.

When he looked down again, a wasp was sitting on his leg.

And it was carving a chunk of flesh out of his leg.

He blinked at it. He wasn't sure it hurt.

And then there were more, tearing him apart, cutting him to pieces and he was screaming, trying to get them off, trying to make them stop, but he couldn't, and he swore that the buzzing sounded like voices, like people talking to him like Luke and Zoë and Bianca and Michael and Leo and everyone, screaming at him.

"Your fault! It was your fault!"

"Why didn't you save me? Why did you let me die?"

"Why did you kill me? Why did you let it happen, Percy?"

He woke up screaming, curled into a tight ball on his mattress, just as Apollo was reaching fingers of light over the horizon, paling the night sky.

They were gliding slowly over the ocean, and for a moment he was tempted to find a place to jump off the Helicarrier and into the water.

But he had a job to do. And it was about time he started doing it.

Considering gods didn't need to sleep (as far as Percy knew, anyway), he thought it was a little unnecessary for Loki to be huffy about Percy coming down to the holding cell at three am.

Plus, with the effort it took to walk there without his crutch, he didn't want to be insulted for his efforts.

"Listen, dude, it's three in the morning and I just woke up. You do your—" He waved an arm in Loki's general direction— "song–and–dance routine later. Just talk to me normally."

Loki huffed, but ceded. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, Perseus?"

Percy shrugged. "I don't know. Just... talk to me. What's your favourite colour?"

Loki was surprised by the approach.

Favourite colour? He was in prison for defying his pantheon, and this demigod wanted to know his favourite colour?

"Green."

"Mine's... blue, I think."

Loki tilted his head. "You think?"

"I don't get much time to think about this stuff. Do you have any hobbies?"

This was interesting, to say the least. "... practising my magic, I suppose. And, according to your new 'friends', world domination."

Perseus smirked. "Firstly, they aren't my friends. And that was a pretty shit attempt at world domination."

"Oh? How would you approach it?"

Perseus snorted briefly. "As if I'd tell you. If you break out, you'll probably plagiarise it!"

"Hmph. Why don't you have your... crutch?"

Perseus' expression soured slightly. "I'm not an invalid. I just can't walk long distances yet."

"How, exactly, do you plan on keeping me 'in check'—" Loki figured this was an appropriate time to use the common mortal 'air quotes'— "if you can't 'walk long distances yet'?"

"I don't think you want to know." Percy wasn't trying to be ominous, but he realised that what he had said sounded kind of threatening. "Not that— I'd hurt you. On purpose. But I could. If I wanted to."

He really wasn't helping his own case here.

Loki looked kind of amused but sceptical, so Percy brushed it off again.

"Just— yeah, whatever. You do magic, I do chores for gods."

Loki snorted quietly. "Based on what I've heard, I would say they're a tad more than plain old chores."

Percy smiled awkwardly. He felt like the conversation was drying up.

"How did you even end up here? You're still sort of a minor god in your pantheon I think? What made you think you could take them on?"

Loki paused, turning his head further towards Percy. "A snake. Whispered in my ears, and told me what I wanted to hear."

... Just like Kronos. Just like Gaia.

"Why? Like, how did it...?"

Loki snorted, leaning on his side against the glass. "Telepathically, I don't know. And it doesn't matter why, I listened to him. And... let him down, I guess. I mean honestly!" He waved a hand in the general direction of his cell. "Look where I am now!"

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First published ::: 21.06.22
First edit ::: n/a
Wordcount ::: 1000
Chapter dedication :::

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Yours, l0v3rboy_