The Next Great Prophecy

PERCY XLI

I'm not 100% I have to put a TW with this, but I will. So TW for suicidal thoughts.

Percy could tell you the exact moment he decided it wasn't worth the hassle to keep alive.

He was kneeling before Zeus, making his speech. He finished, and stood with Jason, and the realization hit him. Why would a god listen to a useless demigod like me?

That thought was all the swirled in his head as events continued onward. He felt himself lowered to the ground, and heard Nico yell, but all he could think was that they shouldn't bother. The others could solve it all without him. They don't need me. I can't help them. I can't even go near water without panicking.

When he opened his eyes to the now-familiar sight of the Underworld, he breathed a sigh of relief. At least now he wouldn't have to worry about slowing down the quest. Plus, he wasn't in excruciating pain anymore, which was nice.

He made his way to the lines to allow access to the afterlife. It was exactly the same as it had been when he was twelve. The two lines moved around Cerberus, the three headed hellhound, and he weighed his options.

He could opt for judgement. There was a chance he would end up in Elysium.

Yeah. Right. He shook his head, and walked toward the second option, EZ-DEATH. Eternal monotony would be better than whatever punishment he would receive from the judges. Zeus knew he didn't deserve Elysium.

The line advanced quickly, until Percy was finally at the gates. In a gravelly voice, the undead being standing guard asked, "Name?"

"Perseus Jackson."

The being consulted a clipboard. "Step aside."

"What? Why?"

"Special orders from Hades. You can't go in yet." With a shove, he forced Percy out of the line.

Percy stood to the side, anger washing over him. He glared at the being. "I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who actually wants to be here. Is it really that hard to let me be dead?"

The being acted as if it hadn't heard him. Percy felt his anger fade as quickly as it had come, and wandered to Cerberus. He scratched each of the hellhound's snouts, wishing more than anything to be on the other side of those gates. He closed his eyes for a moment, only to feel different, suddenly. He opened his eyes to see the faces of his friends looking down at him. They brought him back. He thought they might try, but figured Hades would not allow it. And yet, here he was. It was all he could do to not sob. He was so close. So close to being done, to not worrying that he would be the reason his friends failed, to no longer being a pawn of the Fates. But he was here. And his friends expected a joke, because that was his thing. "I told you it would work," he said, hoping that being back from the dead would be enough of an excuse for the emotionlessness of his voice; they would attribute it to the sudden change, but he would know it was caused by the realization that he would have to continue onward, pretending that he didn't wish they had left them there. He closed his eyes, and relished in what he hoped to be the monotony of unconsciousness that lasted a long, long time.

***

When he next awoke, he recognized the familiar ceiling of his cabin at camp. He had thought that, after so long away, the sight of his cabin would be a relief; instead, it served as a reminder of the fact that he was still alive. The thought brought no comfort.

He looked around, taking in the cabin that had been vacant while he was gone. His eyes fell on the bed that would normally be Tyson's. Gathered on it in a pile were his friends, almost all asleep. Jason sat on the edge, watching him. Quietly, the son of Jupiter stood, crept over to the vacant chair next to Percy's bed, and sat.