Demons, Demigods and Hunters (Percy Jackson/Supernatural)

Chapter 46

Anna

Something was wrong. Dean was shouting and time was moving in all sorts of wrong directions. It was like fighting in the presence of Kronos again. Anna could feel it in the depths of her bones that something was severely wrong.

"Sam!" Dean roared. They turned the corner to see Sam, and relief flooded through Anna. She's wrong, he's ok, they're all going to be ok. Sam was injured, but alive. He was alive and moving and that's all that mattered; everything else is just gravy. It was one of those rare strokes of luck. Anna took a sharp breath as she processed what she just thought.

"Dean!" Anna saw movement behind Sam and couldn't help screaming. She'd jinxed fate, and every demigod knew that tempting fate was the fastest way to get killed. Or to get someone else killed.

"Sam!" She screamed, reaching for her weapons.

"Sam! Look out!" The man ran Sam through. From the back. A coward's move. Anna felt a rage that she hadn't felt in a long time start to burn through her. Sam fell to his knees, gasping. She drew a knife and with expert precision flicked it at the coward who dared to wear a soldier's uniform. The blade glinted before passing through him harmlessly.

Mortal.

A mortal, killed her friend. A human. Anna screamed in rage, yanking her gun out, firing at the retreating form of Sam's attacker with lead bullets.

"No!" Dean's scream split the night. Anna didn't even stop as Dean slid to the ground in front of Sam, grabbing him as he started to fall forward. She pelted past them both, trying to catch the mortal who killed her friend. But even for the demigod, he had to much of a head start. She didn't waste another round when he disappeared into the woods. Instead she turned and ran back past Bobby, who had followed. They both raced back to Sam, cradled in Dean's arms.

"Sam, come on, hey." Dean's hands were covered in blood and even though Anna had seen the knife go in, she hadn't quite believed her friend could die until she saw it. The tall lanky body that used to contain all that was Sam Winchester laid in the mud as his brother desperately tried to staunch the blood flow.

Anna, with her intimate knowledge of war and battle and the injuries that follow it knew exactly which organs had been perforated, which muscles and ligaments had been torn, which blood vessels had ruptured to allow the red substance to flow so freely over Dean's hands. Field training as a medic had not been easy, but she'd done it. The Apollo cabin was always stretched thin, so most of camp had been given lessons on the subject in case a healer wasn't on hand. Today she cursed the very knowledge that had not only saved her life, but the lives of her friends. Because now she knew with professional certainty that even if Sam made it to a hospital in the next two minutes, if they got him in a hospital in the next thirty seconds, not even the very finest doctors could save him. If he'd been a demigod, neither nectar nor ambrosia could save him. Her first mortal friend, her first friend in college, was going to die.

"Hey, look at me. It's not even that bad. It's not even that bad, all right? Sammy? Sam!" Dean begged his brother, but Sam's gaze was losing focus, and he was slumping.

"Hey, listen to me," Dean said desperately. Anna froze her heart, her mind, pushing away the burning emotions writhing inside of her. She forced herself to focus, to have the cold clarity needed to win the war, instead of mourning the lost battle.

Just the way she had done all those years ago during the demigod wars. Steeling herself for the battle to come, rather than face the losses of now. She'd lied to Sam in Colorado. Sometimes, not grieving, but fighting was the right track. Today she was a soldier. Maybe if she lived to see tomorrow or the next day, then she would be allowed to grieve.

"We're gonna patch you up, okay? You'll be good as new. Huh? I'm gonna take care of you. I'm gonna take you care of you. I've got you. That's my job, right? Watch out for my pain in the ass little brother? Sam? Sam! Sam! Sammy!" Dean's voice was cracking, and Anna had blink away the sting in her eyes at the heartbreak in his voice. Sam's eyes closed, and he fell forward limply.

"No. No, no, no, no, no, no." Dean was chanting over and over, shaking Sam. Anna almost reached out to stop him, but stopped herself. It wouldn't make a difference to Sam's death.

Dean's face twisted up, fear and pain and sadness and an unnamable something all mixed up in a potent cocktail of anguish. Anna remembered that face. Her, and every other demigod had worn it every time they found a sibling, cousin, friend dead during the wars. She was struggling to keep it off her own face, the ice she had once been so good at conjuring melting away quickly as the hot blooded pain washed over her. So she did the only thing she could do. She prayed. Anna knelt down next to Dean, the words tumbling out of her mouth as she cupped Sam's still warm cheek.

*"Τιμή του άνδρα που αγωνίστηκε στο όνομα του αθώου. Ένας ήρωας του λαού, ίσως εκείνοι που ζουν μετά από αυτόν να βρουν ειρήνη από το θύμα του. Ο Θανάτου φροντίζει για την ψυχή του, ο Ερμής τον στέλνει γρήγορα στον Κάτω Κόσμο και ο Χάγης μπορεί να σας κρίνει δίκαια. και να σας χαρίσει την ειρήνη στην Ελυσιανή." Anna whispered the prayer as Dean shouted again into his brother's face. She could only hope that the gods heard her. Bobby squeezed her shoulder tightly. Sam's eyes were closed, his mouth slack. He was gone.

"Sam!"

...................................................................................

Translation:

*In honor of the man who fought in the name of the innocent. A hero of the people, may those who live on after him find peace from his sacrifice. Thanatos care for his soul, Hermes send him quickly to the Underworld and may Hades judge you justly; and give you peace in Elysian.

(Greek)