Tempting the Fates

Saying that it felt like they didn't have a hope in hell of finding a blade black as night in a place even darker than that was laughable. Nico didn't say so much as they trudged along the landscape, cautious of every stir or sound around them. His other senses made up for the limitation of sight as they combed across the uneven ground hoping to find his weapon. Percy had riptide in pen form but from nerves or uncomfortable silence he kept clicking the point in and out.
Sword.
Pen.
Sword.
Pen.
Sword. Pen. Sword. Pen. Sword Pen. Swordpen. Swordpenswordpensword.
The sound was going to drive the younger demigod mad before the oppressive dark had a chance.
Nico took a deep breath in and let it out his nose even more slowly but the clicking continued and his stomach churned like tides in a storm.
"What did you call it again?"
Percy turned just in time to witness the other boy stumble over the uneven ground in front of him, startled by the question.
What, you didn't think he was just going to walk in silence ignoring you the whole time? Nico scolded himself. He could feel the temperature in his face rise as he blushed furiously. Fortunately, Percy couldn't see.
"Phlegethon. The stream of fire."
Picking their way across debris from the cars crushed on impact in their fall, Nico noted the blue Fiat that had hit Arachne and kept his eyes open. The last thing he wanted was a sneak attack from a spider woman who would just as soon eat them both. Sadly, he could think of less pleasant ways to die, but that didn't mean within the first hour (was it an hour?) he was willing to subject either of them to that fate. Nico perked up as he saw something protruding from the landscape in front of them. It was lodged in the ground and seemed to quiver. Running forward, he wrapped his fingers around the blade and they immediately felt at home— reunited with an extension of his own arm. Tucking the blade back at his side he let out a sigh of relief. At least something in this godforsaken scenario was going right.
"Do you know that from…" Percy started but when he looked over, he could see the other boy stop. The gears in his head continued to turn but it seemed like despite the cogs moving, Percy had decided to halt all progress on that train of thought.
"Mythomagic?" He answered.
"You found your sword."
So that was exactly where Percy had been going. Just as much as he was sure that the game itself wasn't remotely offensive to Percy— no matter how lame the son of Poseidon may have deemed the game, he knew full well what it was. He also knew full well exactly how immersed the other demigod had been in it. Living in a world that was, at the time, so different from his own had been exciting. The game hadn't been black or white— good or bad. It progressed in shades of grey and, unknowing to the child who had fallen so in love with it, mirrored so much of his own life. A would be hero one day, a monster the next. Nico lived between the worlds and between characteristics. Even he didn't know where he would land. But the game… it wasn't the game that Percy was failing to mention.
"You can mention the game. That time of my life, it doesn't only make me think of Bianca. At least, not in the way you think it makes me." The sword at his side was a source of comfort. He held to it for no reason but kept it within his sheath. The boys fell into step together in silence.
"I'm sorry. I didn't meant to imply… I just didn't want to… you know. Drag things up or anything. I just figured sore subject. Sorry."
Rounding the blue Fiat, Nico was just about to reply but the words were stolen right from his mouth and the thoughts from his head. A shadow, impossible to make out against the dimness of the landscape, appeared in their path charging at them like a freight train and nearly just as massive. He pieced together just a few seconds too late exactly what it was.
"Where is she? Where is that smart ass daughter of Athena?" Arachne screamed not distinguishing between either of the gods. Fortunately in his obsessive clicking, Anaklusmos was fully extended and Percy raised the sword expertly seconds before the arachnid woman launched herself at them. Raising his sword high, Percy sliced upwards while throwing himself to the side so not to be crushed by the bulk of her weight.
Nico freed his Stygian blade from his side and brought it to bare as well.
"I will eat her! She tricked me… that conniving little… she tricked me!" Several choice words in Greek met their ears but even the rather inexperienced of the two was certain that the graphic suggestions made might not necessarily be physically possible with just one individual in the equation.
"She's safe, bug eye. Up top. That's right… Annabeth is up top and you're stuck down here. How long until you find your way out?" Percy taunted. Not the right choice of words as the arachnid launched herself at him once more. Another strike from riptide to her belly caused a shriek but she didn't disappear into dust or crumble away into nothing.
Percy had just royally pissed off a lady spider who was clearly having a pretty crap life and taunting was just the icing on the cake. Nico realised, only belatedly, that Percy had come to position himself between Nico and Arachne.
I can fight for myself, he thought. What is he doing?
Whether he was trying to be noble or he was just incredibly stupid, Nico knew that Percy was going to get himself killed. And besides… what was happening? Without so much as contact, Poseidon's son was beginning to turn a blistered red. Welts were raising up on his arms. Nico felt it then, the way time caught onto himself. He felt it in his heart and the way his lungs began to strain once more though all he did was stand still. Looking down, his fingers were bleeding. Where they had been gripping tight to the ledge, blood was now pooling, standing in stark contrast to his pale skin. But even the tan of his skin (unusually pallid from so much time in a void) was darkening, deepening a sickly crimson.
Something was happening and Percy, too distracted to notice it, was going to wind up getting himself killed the freaking seaweed brain.
You're hard enough to keep alive as it is! Stop throwing yourself in fait's way! For fuck's sake. Nico grumbled to himself. And in Tartarus, the birthplace of monsters, Nico could feel the silent call. Something in the air changed. They may be in Tartarus and Arachne, attempting to stab Percy with her poison imbibed barb, she was calling. Spiders. She was calling to her children, those who might live in the shadows in the depths.
Skin crawling from the thought, Nico knew he had to do something. Quick. Before Percy wound up a Percykabob and Nico wound up one very desolate demigod, hacked right off and lugubrious beyond measure.
Think. Come on, di Angelo, think.
After all, he knew lots of things. He knew the underworld. He knew mythology. And whatever anyone might think about how lame or nerdy mythomagic had been, it was his gateway to understanding mythology and much of their history. Nico knew the history of things others didn't. He understood how pieces fit together, many of which he had fit himself from his own learning and assumptions. And from those… from those he had an idea.
"Arachne!" Nico shouted.
She didn't pay him any mind, content to continue sparring and insulting the son of Poseidon. Like everyone else she paid no mind to the child of the Underworld.
"You're weaving is disgraceful! My mom owned one of your pieces. It untangled in a weak. It was the biggest waste of money and talk about the quality. I didn't even realised it was legal to sell something that poor. Coming apart at the seams. And don't even get me started on how ugly it was. It physically hurt me to look at it!"
Nico's shouts caught her attention.
"My weaving? MY WEAVING? HOW DARE YOU… YOU BRAT. THERE HAD NEVER BEEN QUALITY AS MY WEAVING! AND UGLY… YOU UNAPPRECIATIVE LITTLE… Every artist has their experimental phase!"
Her absorption in Jackson broken, Arachne took after the son of Hades threatening to show him exactly how expert her skills were.
"In fact, I will demonstrate! Come here and I will weave you a tapestry with threads so tight as to render you so snuggly inside you won't get even the faintest breath of air! I am such an expert in weaving I can make this so! Come here so I can show you! COME BACK!" Arachne shouted but Nico took off on foot and while he didn't have eight legs to help him make headway, he also didn't have as much weight to propel forward in the oddly dense gravity that was Tartarus. "Son of Hades, hah! All you know is darkness and death! What would you know of art?! You insolent child!"
What he was doing was more than likely suicide. After all, he was doing one of the dumbest things he could think of and it was only a guess. A guess to which direction he ran and what he expected to find there. When he had sighted the river running fast below them, he'd thought for an instance they would plunge into it but instead Phlegethon. Legs carrying him as fast as he could, the weight of Tartarus was pressing down upon him. Arms swinging out in front of him, he could see the skin bubbling and beginning to bleed as lesions formed. Inside of him his lungs felt like they were disintegrating and as swift as he might be Arachne was gaining. Up ahead. He could hear it. In the pit of his stomach he could feel it. The tug and the pull. Soon it was in his sight, though it was swimming with spots. Even the spots in his vision were brighter than the murky atmosphere he was cutting through.
"Arachne… no, no one speaks of Arachne. Not even in relation to Athena. No one remembers your weaving… so terrible… not even worth remembering how bad it was! Awful!"
Nico wheezed out but his breath was like liquid. It was then he realised he was coughing up blood. But it was so close and he could feel the monster behind him. The Ghost King kept running until there was no ground beneath his feet and Arachne in all her fury blinded by rage followed right after. She was on him as they fell, tumbling towards the water below them.
"I think I hate you even more than that infernal child of Athena!" Arachne shrieked.
Tumbling down, he threw one look back up over the edge and saw Percy chasing after them.
Stop, you stupid boy. You'll go over the edge.
He wasn't sure if he shouted it or thought it but given when he coughed he gurgled blood, Nico felt maybe it was the latter. As they crashed into the water, his body immediately went rigid. The hyperborean water stabbed at his already weakened body like a knife. But it wasn't the force, the frigid temperature, or the weight of Arachne sinking him further that got to him. It was the wailing. Slipping past them the souls pawed at Nico and Arachne and every single thought was in their heads. Cocytus. The river of wailing. The frozen river that flowed into Acheron. Home to traitors and frauds. They screamed in a way that Nico didn't have to hear but could feel. It ripped at his insides, to his very core. Their thoughts were his thoughts, their woes his woes. And with little effort their tragedy gripped down deep inside of him and pulled every indiscretion, every clandestine thought to the surface.
What's the point? You're sick. Something's wrong with you… your mother didn't bring you up this way. Your father wouldn't want you. He doesn't want you friends… what friends? No one trusts you. They don't notice when you're gone and when you're there… you're a burden. A vexation. If they lost you in Tartarus, no one would mind. No one will be waiting for you on the other sides of the doors. They'll be waiting for Percy Jackson. So what's the point in going on? Let the river take you.
Arachne's weight left his body. Vaguely, he was aware of her thrashing and screaming as the souls in the river of ice latched onto her. After all, it was the home of traitors. Of frauds. And wasn't Arachne a fraud, pretending to be better than the gods? Even if she had gotten a crap deal in life.
Fraud? Who's the fraud, Nico? Hiding in the shadows, envying, begrudging. Who's the fraud? No one knows you… and even if they wanted to know you (they don't), they wouldn't after you told them. You're sick. The way that you feel… it isn't normal. Normal people don't feel that way. The gods don't want you, demigods don't know what to do with you. You're neither living or dead. Where do you fit, Nico? Where could you ever possibly fit? You're a fraud and your thoughts betray you. Don't struggle.
Nico's lungs filled with the arctic water and then everything went dark.

Notes

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson & the Olympians. I just like to play in the mythos. This is just me dabbling with the characters and the story and completely my own mind just running away with a 'what if' scenario.
AN: Thank you so much to those who have bothered hitting favourite or alerting the story. Honestly, I had no intention of updating this quickly but I've found this little AU scenario just jumping from my fingertips every time I get a few minutes to sit down at the computer. It's been a lot of fun to just let it flow and see what happens. Not sure if it's like that for anyone else but it's been really fun and exciting! Now, I'm debating perhaps narrating the stories back and forth between Nico and Percy... but I'm not really sure. Anyway, let me know your thoughts. Also, I might want a beta. I'm honestly trying not to re-read over the chapter or anything after writing it so I don't delete it all. It's all free-flowing so I'm sure I've made a few mistakes.
Warning: This story has every eventual intention of being Perico. If you're not into that, that's fine. But this story has a long way before it even develops to that so don't stop reading if you're on the fence. Hopefully you'll enjoy it anyway!
Dedication: I want to dedicate this chapter to Emmafakedherdeath and Tagicheartbreak for their lovely comments. Thanks so much!