Deception (Percy Jackson/Avengers) On TEMPORARY Hiatus

A Painful Farewell

Eyes are the windows to the soul. At least that's how the saying goes.

Have you ever looked into a soldier's? And I mean really, really look. Have you tried to see that pain they hide? Did you know their eyes are the only place you'll see weakness, vulnerability? That by looking in their eyes, you can see the lives they've taken, the lives they've seen lost? It is in their eyes that you can see how broken they are. As the Gods and campers looked into Percy's eyes with fear, their hearts shattered. His eyes were unrecognizable.

His sea green eyes had lost their light. It would have been better if they were drowning in tears of sadness. It would have been better if they flashed and stormed with unquenchable rage. Any emotion would have been better than the broken, haunted look in his eyes. There was nothing. No current of life, no sign of sight; they were just dead. Dull and colorless. An empty canvas of emotion.

Cradled in his arms was the disjointed and beaten body of his lover, Annabeth Chase. Her curly blonde hair was crusted in mud and blood. A deep gash scarred her forehead, bruises discoloring her cheeks and chin. A deep X was carved across her collar bone, the blood flowing into her once bright orange camp t-shirt. Her ribs were blue and purple, the faint hint of white bone protruding her skin. It was surrounded by a sickly green and yellow pus. A poison she had been battling since Tartarus. But her fatal wound was the most terrifying. The hole through her chest was a testament to Gaea's sadism. She had ripped Annabeth's heart out straight through her chest cavity while Percy watched in helpless horror. The remainder of her heart lay 10 feet away from the couple.

Annabeth's arms were a collage of scars and scrapes from her time in The Pit and from the battle. Her right hand still gripped her dagger while her left hand was intertwined between Percy's. Blood dripped from between his fingers. Her blood. Blood she had tried to stopped form flowing out. A crimson handprint marred the left side of his face, the liquid disrupted by the steady stream of tears flowing from his eyes.

Everyone was losing hope. The camp's losses were too great, the God's powers nearly exhausted. Morale was a fleeting memory. The one they looked to for leadership was no longer in any condition to fight. They didn't even know if he was in any condition to live. The hand print of blood that marked his left cheek, the mark Annabeth's hand left when she and Percy shared their last kiss and words was a wound to everyone's soul. It was a moment that would haunt the memories of all who witnessed it. Everyone watched in helpless horror as Gaea's monsters marched forward while she mocked their suffering.

"So this is the great Perseus Jackson, the Savior of Olympus? How pathetic!" She past out her words, mocking him with his title. "It seems my monsters have given you too much credit. You are just a disappointment, a mistake, one I intend on correcting. For all of your valiant words, you can't do anything. You are just a broken, shattered, and destroyed shell of a demigod. You promised protection. You promised life. Yet look at all of those dead around you. Not even I am so cruel as to promise something I cannot keep."

"I promised you all blood. I promised you a war Jackson. Revenge for me and my children. I promised you the death of all those you hold dear. I promised you a torturous existence. And look..." she smiled sadistically, her green eyes flashing yellow," Your friends are dead. By my hands. And what glorious, heroic deaths they were. I must say though. Annabeth's was my favorite. She actually thought she could put up a fight. The fool."