#again no spn boys for this one sorry. they'll be back soon.

[demons-and-demigods]

Demons and Demigods Part Six: Tartarus

Edit 4/12/24: okay so I might come back to this part and rewrite it at some point. I'll make a second post for that just to keep this one around bc i do like it, i just think it could be More lol

Alright, so this part is gonna be part hand-wavey transitions part written scene. I didn't want to split it up, so you'll just have to bear with me here for this one. This part also features dark!percy and, you know, The Horrors. Let me know if you want any warnings added to this one and I'll add them.

They get to Rome, split up to do their things, find Nico, fight the twins, Annabeth finds the Athena Parthenos, etc. Sam and Dean are stuck in Mystery Spot the same day Percabeth falls into Tartarus. And because demigods are ~weird~ they can all sense that something is off each repeat (especially because Percy and Annabeth seem Extra Off), and the Wednesday that Dean dies and then stays dead for four months is really fucking weird bc the demigods are just like, they know that nothing they do now is gonna stick they can feel it and Gaea and the Giants have like, stopped pulling shit so they’re just like wtf is going on. Then the world resets again and Percabeth has just fallen into Tartarus and off we go to continue the story. The demigods can sense that whatever was going on is over now and they hustle to get back to work.  

Percabeth did not get reset because Tartarus works different and is beyond the reach and powers of a trickster (even if said trickster is actually the archangel Gabriel in disguise) so they were falling for longer than is canon and then spent a lot longer down there than in canon bc I’m a sadist <3 so the Percy and Annabeth that the rest of the seven interacted with on each reset were just illusions repeating canned lines.

(I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: this is my au and I can fuck with the timelines if I want to, so I am. Does it make sense? No. Do I care? Also no. I'm just having fun, don't think about any of it too hard.)

Now begins The Horrors.

Percabeth is in Tartarus dealing with The Horrors for like, a year. Between the topside Mystery Spot resets not affecting the Pit and time working differently down there anyway, it’s a long ass time for them. Tartarus is Large, it takes a long time to traverse its expanse. They suffer through drinking the fire water and trying desperately to stay alive to make it to the Doors. It’s been months and they’ve both started to lose themselves a little to the nature of the Pit. Percy is a little more vicious when cutting down monsters, Annabeth is a little slower to reign him in. It’s . . . almost easier down there. It’s all cut a dry. It’s just kill or be killed. It’s us or them. There is nothing but fight and kill and stay alive and always keep moving. It’s simple.  

Bob shows up and it’s a reminder that there’s more out there, a reminder of who they were and what they’re fighting for when they had begun to forget that there had ever been anything other than Hell. They regain a little bit of who they were before the Fall.  

The arai fuck shit up real bad lmao. They fight and get cursed and then Annabeth is blinded and she can’t find Percy and Percy is enraged. He stops caring about anything but getting to her, he doesn’t care about all the curses he is taking on, he can’t feel the pain of them anymore. The arai fall all around him with every swing of his sword. The curses pile up and still he doesn’t stop. They mean nothing in the face of his rage and desperation to get back to Annabeth’s side.  

And then it happens. He cuts down an arai and then he’s on the ground. Annabeth is still calling for him and the arai are laughing at him. The curse of Phineas, they cackle. A slow, painful death for the son of Poseidon who has caused so much suffering and pain; it is fitting.  

Percy is in unbearable pain; his blood is boiling in his veins and his skin is sloughing off his bones. His head is pounding and throbbing and he thinks it might explode. His muscles are burning and tearing themselves apart as his bones liquify. He knows that he is dying and fears that he won’t. Still he tries to get up, tries to stand and continue fighting. He refuses to go out without a fight, and he refuses to leave Annabeth to suffer the nightmares of this place alone.  

He manages to get back to his feet, although he has no idea how, and he has not the strength to lift his sword, barely the strength to grip it. And so he lunges, ripping the arai apart with hands and teeth as he burns, everything burning burning burning. But Annabeth is always just out of reach and his strength cannot last forever. He goes down. His vision is fading and he can’t tell if he’s breathing, he’s not even sure he has lungs to breathe with anymore. With the last of his strength he turns his gaze to the vaguely silver outline of where Bob is standing off to the side and prays. He begs with the shredded remains of his deteriorating mind for Bob to keep Annabeth safe. He apologizes for never visiting, for being a bad friend.  

And then the lights go out and Percy knows that this is it. He has a moment to wonder if his soul will remain trapped in Tartarus for all eternity or if it will manage to escape. With his luck, he doubts it.  

Bob moves, then. He clears away the arai and grabs Annabeth before she walks off the cliff. He heals her and carries her over to where Percy is lying still on the ground. Annabeth begs Bob to help him, cradles him in her arms and tells him that he can’t die, he can’t leave her to find the Doors alone, she needs him. Bob tries to heal him.  

Percy is a gruesome sight. He’s bleeding from a hundred different wounds, one of his legs looks broken and there is bone sticking out of his arm. He’s covered in blood and bruises and burns and he’s far too cold.  

Bob manages to fix most of the wounds and heals the broken bones. But the gorgon’s blood poison is beyond his abilities to take care of. They head to Damasen’s.  

Annabeth is wary, but desperate, and Bob is holding Percy so she had no choice but to follow.  

Damasen helps them, albeit reluctantly. Percy slowly gets better. Annabeth is thankful for the weeks of rest they get at Damasen’s hut while Percy recovers. Eventually, however, Percy is as healed as he is going to get in Tartarus, where the very air they breathe is slowly killing them, and they need to move on.  

It’s slow progress, heading towards the lady Bob says can help them with the death mist stuff, but they make it. Bob couldn’t come with them all the way, but he promised to meet them afterwards.  

And then Misery herself shows up and she is going to kill them. After everything else they’ve been through, after everything else they’ve done to get this far, they’re going to die at the hands of a sniveling, whining old hag? No.  

Percy is angry. He is furious. He wrests control of the poison from her and reverses its flow. He grabs hold of her tears and snot and saliva and forces it back, making her sob harder and it only gives him more to work with. Annabeth stands back and watches.  

Percy sees just how much misery Misery can take. She is begging him to let her go and he can’t help but laugh. It’s pitiful, how quickly she’s given in, given up. That cracked glass orb somewhere in the core of him shatters. And all of a sudden, he can feel. He can sense the congestion rattling in her lungs and the ichor pumping through her veins.  

He wants to grab hold of it, grab hold of everything in her and make her scream. He wants to make her feel even a fraction of the pain that he and Annabeth have had to endure down here.  

But then Annabeth’s ghoulish hand is on his arm and he turns to look at her and her eyes are sharp, even from beneath the guise of the death mist, and she shakes her head. He tilts his, asking, are you sure? He can kill this goddess, he is suddenly certain of this fact, and he would, if Annabeth told him to. She shakes her head again.  

He clears a path and lets Misery go.  

Nyx is frightening, yes, but Percy can feel the ichor in her veins just as easily as he could in Misery’s. He is not as afraid as he knows he should be.  

They survive the House of Night and make it to the other side intact.  

Percy can sense Annabeth’s heart pounding as they run, can feel her blood pumping and it makes his head throb, but they don’t have time for him to think about it, so he shoves it to the back of his mind and carries on.  

They meet up with Bob. Percy can almost hear the ichor in his veins and he can sense every movement Bob is about to make, can feel his muscles tense and stretch.  

They make it to the Doors and Percy can hardly think over the sound of all the blood pumping within the horde of monsters before them. It echoes in his head, gallons of blood and ichor roaring in his ears. He stumbles and Annabeth catches him. He can’t hear her worried questions over the pounding in his head.  

He gets it under control.  

They make it to the Doors and cut one chain. They fight. Tartarus himself appears.  

Percy drops his sword. He claps his hands over his ears and screams. He can feel it now, the body of Tartarus coming to life beneath their feet; the rivers of the Underworld flow through his veins, monsters writhe around in pustules on his skin. They stand atop the thunderous beating of his massive heart.  

Percy can feel it all and he can feel his mind begin to fray at the immensity of it, at the truth of the Pit. Mortal minds were not meant to bear this reality.  

Annabeth is kneeling in front of him (he doesn’t remember hitting the ground) and her hands are covering his over his ears and she’s trying to talk to him but all he can hear is the rushing of the rivers beneath Tartarus’ skin. Bob is fighting off monsters and his brothers as the manifestation of Tartarus watches from the sidelines. Damasen is there (when did he get here? Percy’s mind is fracturing, he can’t think straight, he can’t keep track of what’s going on) and Percy blinks and Damasen has thrown himself at Tartarus and Annabeth is trying to haul him into the Doors.  

Percy tries to speak but he can’t seem to make his voice work. They need to stay, to help their friends. They can’t leave Bob and Damasen behind.  

Annabeth is crying.  

Percy reaches up to wipe the tears from her cheeks and tries to focus only on her, tries to block out the body of Tartarus and the horde of monsters.  

Suddenly, Bob is there, scooping them up and depositing them in the elevator. “The button must be held for twelve minutes or else the Doors will open and you will die, trapped within whatever lies between here and the surface.”  

Annabeth tries to protest. Percy can barely make out what Bob is saying.  

“I will hold the button,” Bob says. “Thank you, friends, for giving us hope.” He glances over his shoulder at where Damasen and his drakon are holding off the tide of monsters and trying to keep Tartarus at bay. “We will do this for you, and we are honored to. You must hold the Doors closed on your side. They do not like the living and will try to spit you out.”  

Bob presses the button and the Doors begin to slide closed. “Please tell the sun and stars I say hello,” he says with a soft smile, and the Doors shut.  

It’s a long, long ride back to the surface. Annabeth and Percy throw their shoulders into the Doors, fighting to keep them closed. Annabeth sobs, but Percy still isn’t quite all there.  

The longer they’re in the elevator and the farther they get from the Pit, the more Percy begins to come back to himself. Annabeth watches the awareness slowly return to his eyes and his face crumple with despair as he regains his mind and can finally make sense of what just happened.  

They mourn, but they keep the Doors closed.  

Above, the whole thing with Pasiphae and Clytius is happening. The Doors ding. Leo throws a screwdriver to hit the button.  

The Doors slide open.  

Percy and Annabeth tumble out, still clinging to each other even as they collapse.  

They look dead.  

Clytius uses them to speak and everyone is pissed off, then Hazel and Hecate kill him <3  

Percy and Annabeth are alive, but only just. And they’re out. Nico and Hazel kneel on either side of them. Nico reaches out to clutch at the tattered remains of Percy’s shirt and Hazel grabs hold of Annabeth’s wrist.  

The others gather around and hold hands. Nico and Hazel shadow travel them all out of there.  

In the light, it’s worse.  

Reyna and Coach Hedge meet them on the hilltop and freeze. Hedge starts cursing up a storm and Reyna chokes back bile. Leo turns around and throws up. Frank gags. Hazel sobs and Nico feels like he can’t breathe. Piper turns and buries her head in Jason’s chest. He wraps his arms around her tightly but can’t bring himself to look away from Percy and Annabeth.  

They’re horrifyingly thin, emaciated. The tattered remnants of their clothes hang off their skeletal frames. Their skin was pale and sallow, their cheeks sunken. Their chests rattled with each shallow, labored breath. They were covered in cuts and bruises, weeping lacerations and half-healed scabs littering their skin beneath layers of dirt and grime and other nasty substances.  

The others wondered just how long Percy and Annabeth had been down there.  

Jason gently lifts Percy into his arms and flies him to the ship, Frank right behind him as a dragon with Annabeth carefully cradled in his claws.  

Reyna, Hedge, and Nico leave with the Athena Parthenos.  

Percy and Annabeth are settled in two beds in the small infirmary on the Argo II to rest. No one knows when (if) they’ll wake up. Someone is always with them, though. Be it Hazel gently wiping the grime from their skin or Piper carefully cleaning their wounds, Jason dribbling nectar between their cracked lips or Frank doing some physical therapy exercises to try and keep their muscles from atrophying any further.  

The boat was quiet and tense, everyone waiting with bated breath for Percy and Annabeth to wake up.  

And eventually, they did.