Archive of Our Own ^beta

   Zeus was angry. Hades was angry, Poseidon was angry. It was obvious and anyone could tell. No matter where you went, you couldn’t escape any of their rage. Not even the barriers of Camp Half-Blood could prevent the rain and earthquakes that wrecked the rest of the world. In just the past few weeks, Thalia had seen so many die. She thought it would end when the war did, and it did, but not for long. Only around a week or two later, the world was put to ruins. Several hunters had died because of it, so Artemis left to see what was happening, and she had yet to return. The hunters had then decided to camp out in Camp Half-Blood and New Rome, Thalia being one of the few who went to Camp Half-Blood. 

   She had gone there because Jason was there, and she decided to spend this time hanging out with her brother. The Gods had ripped them apart when they were younger, and Thalia wanted to enjoy the limited time she had left with him. Of course, it proved to be more difficult then not. Jason was not allowed in Artemis’ cabin, and Thalia did not want to go in Zeus’ cabin, and because of the wretched storm, they couldn’t really go outside, so they spent a long time in the Big House until Chiron kicked them out, then they’d Iris Message and fill each other in on their lives.

   But Thalia almost felt afraid, standing on the porch of the Big House. The skies were harsh, with heavy lightning and thunder. The wind was so violent Thalia felt as though it could knock her over, or even knock the Big House over, which was not nice, at all. Waves were crashing against the sand so badly, if you got too close it would swallow you alive, and you’d never be seen again. Not even Percy went near the water much since the fighting began, and that just solidified Thalia’s thoughts (although, if Thalia really thought about it, Percy never went too deep into the water anymore. He seemed almost afraid, perhaps of drowning? But Thalia thought that was hilarious, he could breathe underwater—but she could fly if she tried, she didn’t want to though, Percy is not much different).  There were horrendous earthquakes as well, and with all of the above mixed together, it caused thousands of deaths, something that really fueled Hades’ wrath.

Jason was busy, so Thalia had found herself hanging out with Percy earlier, but she ditched him not long after. Thalia had kind of guessed that Percy’s mood was very in tune with Poseidon, but it was very obvious now. He was always cranky and furious, and Annabeth wasn’t even present, being at her dad’s house, to calm him down, so he was just walking around, ruining everyone else's day. But, it wasn’t even his fault, so Thalia didn’t blame him. She did blame the Gods, however. Could they not fight for just a few decades? Apparently not.

   “You should get off the porch.” A quiet voice said from behind her. 

   Thalia turned to look behind her, but calmed down a bit when she saw Nico standing in the doorway. He was wearing his Aviator jacket like normal, but it was hanging off the edge of his shoulders. He wore a black t-shirt with a skull in the middle, and black ripped jeans. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he looked like a walking corpse in the dull lighting. His cheeks were sunken in, and his skin was pale, lacking that olive tint it had when they first met. She didn’t know the kid much, he was an isolated child of Hades, but he was also her cousin. 

   She pursed her lips, turning back to look out at the camp, it was empty, everyone huddling away in their respective cabins. She looked down at the ground, letting out a big sigh, “Why? Also, you look horrible.”

   Thalia realised she sounded insensitive, and it was. The poor kid had been to Tartarus a few weeks ago, and here she was, telling him he looked like crap. It was too late to take it back though. He was still a kid, and he didn’t deserve his cousin —she had never been a cousin for the kid though, had she? She left him all alone all the time. Just like his sister did— telling him that.

   He grumbled, and Thalia could hear him stepping out from behind the door, shutting it behind him. He stood on the porch with her, leaning against the wall. 

   “Gee thanks. But the storms are going to get worse.” Nico said.

   His voice was quiet, but it was raspy and hoarse. It sounded like he wanted to speak louder, but couldn’t. Thalia didn’t remember him speaking like this, it made him sound even more like a walking corpse. It was probably from the pit, perhaps. Although she wasn’t sure what down there would do that to his voice, yet again, she had never been down there. 

   The hunter looked up at the sky, it was darker than normal (the new normal, the one where the sky was always a dull grey buzzing with lightning and rain), which was a feat. The water of the sea was nearly black, and looked so deadly. She never went in the water before for fear of Poseidon, but she’d never, ever, even think about it now that she’d seen that. There were thick cracks in the ground, splitting the earth. Several cabins were already destroyed, those children joining those with godly parents willing to house them. The world was practically destroyed at this point. She wondered how the Gods would recover. How would the mortals recover?

   Thalia scoffed, “I can see that.” She waited for a moment, before speaking again, “What do you think they’re fighting about?”

   She turned to face Nico, looking straight into his black eyes. For some reason, this felt like a private conversation, one that she wanted to have just between the two of them. She’d like to be inside now, but where would she go? She couldn’t be alone in the Big House, Chiron was there. Her cabin had the ever watching eyes of Zeus. Hades wouldn’t let her step foot in his cabin, same with Poseidon. Every other cabin held several occupants who she probably didn’t know well, but either way, that was too many people. And she wanted to be alone. 

   Thalia leaned against the railing of the Big House, turning away from Nico. She looked out at the pounding rain, watching it hit the ground in an unsteady beat. Nico walked up next to her, sitting down on the damp wood. It was probably uncomfortable, but he was fine, he’d felt worse. 

   They watched the rain together for a few minutes, and Thalia waited for Nico to respond. She didn’t feel like getting angry at him for taking so long to answer, so she just waited. 

   “I...us. I think they’re fighting about us.” He confessed, playing with the sleeve of his jacket.

   Thalia let out a dry chuckle, “You think? Why?” 

   She knew what he was talking about. He was insinuating that the Big Three were fighting over their children. Probably about how they were alive. Sometimes Thalia wished her father wasn’t Zeus, or any God for that matter. It always brought so much more trouble than necessary, and she was just tired at this point. 

   “Uhm. My father, he,” Nico interrupted himself with a heavy sigh, one much beyond his age, “he said some stuff. I wasn’t sure at first, but it seems to be the case.”

   “Huh. It’s always us, isn’t it? Percy’s bad luck rubs off on us, doesn’t it?” She joked, a weird small grin on her face.

   Nico was silent. Thalia could tell he wanted to ask something, but didn’t know how. She turned to him, lightly kicking a foot in his back. They made eye contact, and she gave a small reluctant smile. He looked away, back up at the sky, it was only getting worse. The faint light of lightning lit up his pitch black eyes, giving them the slightest bit of life. 

  “When—when Percy...dies,” Thalia wasn’t expecting that, “do you think we’ll still get his bad luck? Or will it become one of ours, or someone else's?” 

   Thalia didn’t know. Why would she? She wasn’t a death expert like Nico, she had technically died once but that was that. She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. 

   She knew it wasn’t true, but she was trying to convince herself, “It’s okay, though. Percy’s not gonna die soon, it’ll be a long time.” Her voice wavered.

   Nico shook his head, “You know that’s not true.” 

   Thalia stood up straight, turning a bit to look away from Nico, to distract herself with the raging storm. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want her kelp head cousin to die before her. She didn’t want her zombie cousin to die before her. She didn’t want her brother to die before her. She didn’t want Hazel to die before her. But that was the path she had chosen. She could die in three days, on the battlefield with a spear through her chest, or she could die in a thousand years. She wouldn’t get to reunite with her cousins after that, she’d be lost among the stars, maybe. Oh gosh. She was practically immortal. She wasn’t really going to just die one day, she’d die a hopefully honourable death on the battlefield, and for all she’s done, she wouldn’t get Elysium. What would come for her after death?

 “Do you know when?” She whispered.

   She didn’t remember Nico having the power to do such a thing, but what did she know? Maybe he could sometimes tell when, maybe sometimes he couldn’t.

   There was a quiet response, one just barely a whisper. But Thalia heard it as clear as day, “Not really. But soon. Really soon.” 

   That scared her. Heights scared her, but this terrified her. How would he die? Oh. Her little cousin, the one forced to carry the prophecy, two prophecies. One of them was even passed onto him because Thalia was selfish. Because she didn’t want to do it, she passed it onto the shoulders of her younger cousin, joining the Hunters of Artemis to gain partial immortality, just so she’d never reach the age of sixteen. It was her fault. The Saviour of Olympus wouldn’t even get a happy ending, just like every other hero. But he deserved better.

   He wasn’t egotistical. He was humble, and loyal. He cared for everyone. He knew the names and faces of everyone he lost in the wars, a feat no one could, or even thought of accomplishing. He hates the Gods, but he fights for them anyway. 

   Look at her, she’d already started the grieving process. He wasn’t even dead yet, but every time she saw him until then, she’d think about how he was going to die. She’d think about the tears and screams of every camper, the blood that’d probably spill from his limp body. Oh, poor Annabeth. 

   She wiped her face, her hands returning wet. Thalia wondered if the rain had gotten on her face, but she knew that wasn’t the case. The sniffles from beside her weren’t from being sick either. 

The hunter looked down beside her, towards her little cousin, the other one she’d failed. She knelt down beside him, careful not to touch Nico. She didn’t know what to do. So she just started talking, and soon she’d find herself crying with a reminiscent smile, not unlike Nico. 

   “Annabeth once told me that, when they’d defeated Medusa, Percy apparently put her head in a box, and shipped it off to Olympus. Can you imagine...”