¹POCKET FULL OF POSIES. p. jackson

𝐈𝐈𝐈. fight the fatality

pocket full of posies
❛ iii. fight the fatality ❜

━━━━━ FATAL FLAWS WERE called fatal for a reason. They get you killed, and often, in nasty, painful ways. Unfortunately for Posie, fear could get you just as easily killed as stupid bravery. And right now—she was utterly terrified.

There was no doubt that fear hindered her in everything she did. Even months after discovering this fear could be fatal, she hasn't gotten rid of it. She felt like the fear was embedded into her DNA; it felt like it was as much as her as that ugly green glow was. She wanted nothing more than to get rid of her fear and that glow that haunted her. Unfortunately, again, that fear and that sickness was Posie. And right now, Posie could feel the fear eating away at her—a heavy weight on her chest, the muscles in her shoulders and arms tensing, and the blinding reality that she could easily die at this very moment. Even worse—a burning sensation in her hands. That only meant bad things. She tried repeating things she had learned. It would've been easier if Onesimus was still around; he would've helped her remember ...

The unknown only made fear worse, too. Posie had no idea what kind of monster Dr. Thorn was, but she knew he could smell her fear. He sneered at her, like he always did, and swept through the snow. She shivered, turning around to look—Percy clutched his shoulder, the shoulder that had been grazed by the ... spike. By the poisonous spike. Posie's hands itched—not burn this time—but she kept them securely at her sides. While in the Underworld, she read—a lot, and about poison, death, and all sorts of other non-Apollo things. She had trained, and had come to the idea that she could take the poison out of someone's body—but Posie never had the chance to try.

Percy locked eyes with her. The fear was back, the fatality won, and Posie turned back around. Dr. Thorn was leading them outside, and Westover Hall loomed over them like the evil castle it was. The wind was bitter and snow blew into Posie's eyes, causing her to squint. All of a sudden, Dr. Thorn stopped. He seemingly sensed something and whirled around. Behind him, Bianca backed away, placing an arm out in front of her—in front of Nico, who gripped the back of her jacket.

Dr. Thorn sneered over their heads. "What are you doing, Jackson? Keep moving!"

Posie looked—Percy had stopped dead in his tracks, still holding his shoulder. He hissed, his eyes closed tightly. "It's my shoulder." He sounded miserable. "It burns."

Posie wiped her hands against her jeans. How her hands were sweaty in such cold weather? Well, that's fear for you. Her palms still itched, but she wasn't going to try to sap the poison out of Percy's skin. She had never done anything like that before, and it could go horribly. She couldn't do that to him—or to anyone.

"Bah!" Dr. Thorn snapped, whirling around with his hands waving angrily. "My poison causes pain. It will not kill you. Walk!"

Silently, Bianca and Nico glanced at Posie. She pursed her lips as she sighed. There was no fighting Dr. Thorn, even if it seemed like they had the good favor. The monster marched the four into the woods—a snowy path dimly that was lit by old-fashioned lamplights. It was cold. So, so cold. It felt like it was numbing Posie's mind along with her limbs, and the wind broke through her jacket despite how much she wrapped it around herself.

Posie wasn't smart—not like how Annabeth was—but her mind was still whirring, going into overtime as she tried to think of a way out of this. Her eyes darted around, trailing up the tall trees that overlooked above the five. Anthos and Arsis were heavy weights on her hips, but there wasn't a chance she could pull them out with Dr. Thorn not hearing anything. It would be great if Annabeth was around—even Onesimus. He would be telling her things—probably calling her an idiot for getting here—but his voice would be better than letting Posie's mind wander all on its' own.