Percabeth (completed): Book 1 - Percy Jackson Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty-Two ~ PERCY

• Chapter Twenty-Two • 

• PERCY •

Some pain just doesn't go away. No matter how hard you distract yourself, it stays there at the pit of your stomach, eating away at you until you finally breakdown in a flurry of tears. You become an emotional wreck, unable to eat or sleep or breathe. Every movement of every limb, however slight it may be, aches unbearably.

That's how it felt for Percy, as he walked down the last tunnel towards the door. Elisya and Mikey walked a little way behind him, holding hands, both terrified and worried for their friend.

"Go back." The hardness and severity of his voice showed that Percy was fighting not to show how much he hurt.

"We won't leave you," Mikey said defiantly.

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you," Percy said coldly. He turned round to face them, anger etched over his sad sunken features. "This isn't a game, you two! This is war! This war has claimed the life of the one person who matters most to me. Don't make me be held responsible when you two get hurt. Ghosts or no ghosts, dead or alive, you're obeying my rules and that makes you my responsibility!"

Elisya scowled and marched straight up to Percy, so that their faces were barely ten centimetres apart.

"I know you're hurting," she said sternly. "I know how it feels when you lose the one thing that means everything to you. My life was cruelly snatched from me. I'm paying for it now, living in this hellhole, in love with a guy who will never be able to see me or love me back. I know it hurts to have the person you love right before you but you can't reach them, no matter how hard you try."

Her voice grew softer. "I know that pain, Percy. But I'm asking you. Let us help you. Independence isn't an option here. We care about you. I share your pain. Let me help you. Because I understand. And I want to help you."

She reached out a pale hand. Percy looked down at it, then back at her. Her dark hair was blown in her face, messily curling at her cheeks. Her smile was kind and comforting, like you would use for an injured animal. Sympathetic. Understanding. Caring.

Yet so not right.

Percy faced the tunnel again, his back to his friends. "I want you to go to the Doors and position yourselves, ready to close them. This is something I need to do alone."

Mikey appeared by his side, as Elisya drifted to his right.

"We're here," Mikey said. He blinked nervously. "Percy, you and I were never that close. But I wanna say right here, I'm proud of you, man. I hope you get to the other side just fine."

Percy fixed his eyes ahead, unable to look at Mikey's face, drawn with pity. It wasn't what Percy needed. He wasn't some worthless wounded creature. He was fighting for Annabeth. For good.

The Doors were the worst place Percy had ever been. They emanated death a hundred times stronger than the Underworld itself.

They didn't actually look much like Doors. Huge gates towered above Percy, disappearing into grey clouds, stretching on for eternity. The gates looked like wire, but were actually made of Stygian iron - the metal of death. It prevented those who were deceased from passing through it. The gates were locked with a padlock made of grey curling fog and thick blackened smoke. The gates crackled with lightning, installed there by Zeus himself.

Death radiated from the Doors, grasping at Percy's clothes with unfurled cold fingers, like they were searching him. His breath came out in silvery wisps as he shivered in the undeniable frozen temperatures.