𝐂œ𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐬é𝐬 [Percy Jackson]

108

Percy felt homesick for the swamp.

At least Hadrian had been in the bed with him, it was warm and he had food. He never thought he'd miss sleeping in a giant's leather bed in a drakon-bone hut in a festering cesspool, but right now that sounded like Elysium.

He, Hadrian and Bob stumbled along in the darkness, the air thick and cold, the ground alternating patches of pointy rocks and pools of muck. The terrain seemed to be designed so that Percy could never let his guard down. Even walking ten feet was exhausting.

Percy had started out from the giant's hut feeling strong again, his head clear, his belly full of drakon jerky from their packs of provisions. Now his legs were sore. Every muscle ached. He pulled a makeshift tunic of drakon leather over his shredded T-shirt, but it did nothing to keep out the chill.

His focus narrowed to the ground in front of him. Nothing existed except for that and Hadrian at his side.

Whenever he felt like giving up, plopping himself down, and dying (which was, like, every ten minutes), he looked over at him, just to remember there was warmth in the world. He may not know a lot of things, like how they were going to get out of here, why he'd jumped in in the first place, why Hadrian was so magnetic beyond just his looks, but he knew one thing- Hadrian made him feel safe and warm.

Baby. Percy had almost died, and so the details surrounding the fight were hazy. But he distinctly remembered asking Hadrian to call him that. And he had.

After Hadrian's talk with Damasen, Percy was worried about him. Hadrian didn't give in to despair easily, but as they walked, he sniffed a little and turned away from Percy. 

"I'm no child of Athena, but that was a solid plan" Hadrian mumbled. 

The fact that Damasen had outright refused to help, stung a little. Everyone was capable of change. Hadrian knew enough to know that. 

But part of Percy was relieved. He was concerned enough about Bob's staying on their side once they reached the Doors of Death. He wasn't sure he wanted a giant as his wingman, even if that giant could cook a mean bowl of stew.

He wondered what had happened after they left Damasen's hut. He hadn't heard their pursuers in hours, but he could sense their hatred... especially Polybotes'. That giant was back there somewhere, following, pushing them deeper into Tartarus.

Percy tried to think of good things to keep his spirits up— the lake at Camp Half-Blood, his mom's smile, his apartment, but everything seemed like dreams. He felt as if only Tartarus existed. This was the real world— death, darkness, cold, pain. He'd been imagining all the rest.

He shivered. No. That was the pit speaking to him, sapping his resolve. He wondered how Nico had survived down here alone without going insane. That kid had more strength than Percy had given him credit for. The deeper they traveled, the harder it became to stay focused.

"This place is worse than the River Cocytus," he muttered.

"Yes," Bob called back happily. "Much worse! It means we are close."

Close to what? Percy wondered. But he didn't have the strength to ask. He noticed Small Bob the cat had hidden himself in Bob's coveralls again, which reinforced Percy's opinion that the kitten was the smartest one in their group.

Percy tried to think back to what had happened with the arai, but most of it was blank. He felt like there was something crucial he was forgetting, something about Hadrian. Something he'd said.

Hadrian looked at him just then. He raised his eyebrows in a questioning way. His hair turned from brown to bright blue. He grinned, despite everything. 

In the light of his bronze bow, Hadrian's face was beautiful. Percy had never denied that. He almost wanted to look away, as if he could burn his eyes by staring too long. But there was a very real possibility they would never make it out of Tartarus, so Percy wanted to look at Hadrian a bit longer.

"You look like shit" He lied instead.

"Jackson, you charmer" Hadrian giggled, "But next time if you want to ask me on a date, I'm vetoing Tartarus"

Percy laughed at that, long and hard and he wondered how long it had been since he laughed like that. 

"Paris?" He suggested instead. 

"Oh gods no" Hadrian buried his face in his hands, "I don't want to look like a tourist in my own country"

"What about the Eiffel tower then?" Percy winked, "That's pretty romantic"

"That's basic, but if you insist on Paris..." Hadrian rolled his eyes, he pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and sighed dramatically, "Take me to the Louvre and kiss me in front of all the paintings"

"I can't do that, they'll arrest me for damaging the priceless artwork" Percy blurted before he could think twice. Joke flirting. He reminded himself. 

Hadrian grinned like he was having a fieldtrip with the way Percy blushed. "Did you just call me art? You better pin me against the wall then"

For a moment, even in the deepest part of Tartarus, Percy felt... relieved somehow. Like things weren't as hopeless as he thought they were. He'd almost died several times, but Hadrian was with him through it all so did it even matter? Would it even matter if they died here? At least they'd be together. 

Something so tragic. Hadrian would love it. Most of his favorite romantic stories probably ended in tragedy. 

"Tell me about a love story" Percy said, "Anything, one of your favorites"

"We are literally walking towards almost certain death, pretty boy"

"All the more reason to do it, love"

Love, mon cœur, pretty boy, baby-

Straight guys probably didn't have butterflies from nicknames a boy called them. Hell, straight guys probably didn't call another guy love or my heart.

Hadrian talked and Percy forced himself listen instead of thinking about his feelings. 

Then the darkness dispersed with a massive sigh, like the last breath of a dying god. In front of them was a clearing—a barren field of dust and stones. In the center, about twenty yards away, knelt the gruesome figure of a woman, her clothes tattered, her limbs emaciated, her skin leathery green. Her head was bent as she sobbed quietly, and the sound shattered all Percy's hopes.

The bubble of hope Hadrian had created, shattered into a million pieces. Hadrian had stopped halfway through his story, words dying in his throat.

Percy realized that life was pointless. His struggles were for nothing. This woman cried as if mourning the death of the entire world.

"We're here," Bob announced. "Akhlys can help."

Oh you think Hadrian is down bad?? Look at Percy's internal monologue the entire time LMAO