north

xi, stolen (youth)

It occurs to Nico that he cannot even witness the full horror of what the Mansion of Night has to offer. Still, even in Tartarus, the Mist persists. What he sees is beyond comprehension, beyond thought, and so horrendous that even the most watered down version is enough to kill him. His hand flies to the pocket of his jacket where his father's thermos rests secure. He's sure that it's all that's keeping him alive, whether it's enchanted or not.

It's dark. Most of what he sees are shapes, vague and undefined, but enough to contribute to the collapse of his lungs. Monsters of all kind and creation crawl out of the recesses of his thoughts into flesh to torment his body in tandem with his mind. His own skin becomes malleable, slipping off his bones, melting off his cold skeleton, puddling on the floor in ash. Nico wants to say this isn't real but he knows better than that. He's spent too long in Tartarus to argue over reality, because it hurts either way.

Gods, does it hurt.

He collapses on the ground and wrenches his hand from Percy, wiping at the blood dripping from his eyes down his gaunt cheeks. Now, more than ever, his eyes are wide and open. He's afraid he'll blink and they'll refuse to lift again, and Akhlys will leave them stranded, dying, at the mercy of the Night.

He leans against Jason's leg, still stretching to keep their hands intertwined. Jason's other hand hovers over Nico's hair. Nico nudges his leg, unspoken permission, and the son of Jupiter weaves his fingers through his dark, knotted hair. It calms him. It grounds him. He can breathe a little more now.

"Are you scared?" he asks, soft and low.

Jason is silent for a long time before he finally admits, "Yeah. A little. You?"

"Not at all," Nico hums. Jason snorts and squishes Nico's face in the side of his thigh, playful. His heart almost leaps out of his chest.

Percy, annoyed with being ignored, kneels beside him, eyes finally open, enough to scrutinize and pick him apart like nothing in or out of Tartarus can. "Come on, Nico," he sighs, quiet enough only for the two of them to hear. "You planned for this. You expected this. You did this for me, remember?" He grabs Nico's chin in his hand and forces their gazes to meet.

"I didn't--" Nico coughs, something thick and dark dripping from his mouth. Jason's grip on his hand tightens.

"Say it," he growls. "Say you did this for me."

Nico shakes his head. This is just another trick, another ploy to hurt him. He won't give in to torture again as quickly as last time. He's not the one that matters right now. He has to get Jason to the Doors.

"You won't admit it," Percy murmurs. "You refused to promise it. But that's why you're here. Then again, you always knew you would end up here because of who... no, what you are."

Nico wants to scream. But he doesn't. He gets his frantic breathing under control and manages the courage to look away. "Jason, please help me up," he says, tugging his companion's hand gently. He ignores Percy's smoldering eyes until they finally close in triumph.

"Of course," Jason says, relieved to finally hear his voice. He fumbles a bit without his vision but helps Nico to his feet. Percy runs his hand up and down Nico's arm. He ignores it and presses on through the mansion, picking up his pace.

Some horrifying, relieving fact occurs to him. It doesn't matter how fast he goes. The mansion will find a way to slow him down and it won't kill him; no, that would be too easy. It will tear him up from the inside out, let him devour himself, let him escape full of holes, missing everything that makes him himself, let the pieces break when his childish hands attempt to tape himself back together. Only then, may he die.