Meet Me in the Woods (Percico/Pernico)

Thirteen: In the Grave

As Percy faced his father's resting place, he felt empty.

There was no particular marking stone to denote that someone was buried there, but a tall, dead tree with mangled branches stood in its place. The tree had rough, ashen bark, denuded of all its leaves and any signs of life.

He kneeled beside the grave, as if it would allow him to feel closer to his father—the absent father that he never knew. He didn't remember what he looked like, or the sound of his voice, but he was his father, nonetheless, and he was dead.

He never thought his dad to be a person, only a shadow that existed in his mind with a fantastical aura surrounding it, giving him the feeling he never truly existed. He was a faceless entity, a blur in his earliest memories, but he was present in his fantasies when he thought of what could have been if he was in his life. He never remembered knowing him, but as he looked upon his grave, he felt a connection to him.

His mind was filled with questions that he would never be able to receive answers to. Why did he remove all his memories of Nico, of Bloomsbury, of the Darkness? Was it to keep him safe, or away from the lifestyle? Did he ever genuinely care about him?

Percy couldn't afford to be saddened by his father's death. If anything, he was angry. Why did the town murder his dad, who had a wife and a child, and, as far as he knew, didn't do anything to deserve it?

He turned to Nico, who was silently standing behind him, allowing him to have a moment and accept reality.

"Do you remember him?" Percy asked.

Nico held a thoughtful look on his countenance before responding. "A little. He was loud, but always nice."

Percy smiled to himself, but kept quiet.

The two were surrounded by the rustling of grass and pine needles, along with the occasional birdsong. It remained silent, peaceful, until a question prodded Percy's mind.

"How did he die?"

Nico was surprised by the sudden question and tried to think of an appropriate way to answer it. "The gallows, I think."

"Why didn't he resist?"

"It would be of no use. He was trying to protect you. The Darkness had its sights on him and it wouldn't relent until he was dead."

"You make the Darkness sound sentient."

He shrugged. "I'm not sure what it is, exactly. I'm not sure if it's a dangerous magical force, or just a name given to our fear of the unknown. I'm told it's a curse, nothing more. I'm just annoyed that Dad tries to keep it from me."

"Me too. If I am supposed to repel it, or to help find a way to banish it completely, I want to understand it."

"I think Dad is afraid that if we understand it, we think it necessary, or begin to think like it."

"Weird," Percy said.

The wind blew a pile of dead, brown leaves onto the grave, and Percy felt further from his faceless father than he had when his mom had to accompany him to Father-Son events. When he watched all those children in the park playing with their dads. When the class made crafts for Father's Day, and he was left with no father to give one to.

He shook his head and brought himself from his knees, the foliage scratching through his jeans as he adjusted.

It was time to say goodbye. To make peace that he would never know the kind of man his father was, and he would only live in the fantasies he created in his absence.

The pads of Percy's fingers felt at the moist dirt covering the grave, and a jolt surged through his body, his consciousness swiftly whisked away by darkness. His body fell limply to the ground beneath him, sending the leaves into disarray.