Work Text:
He won.
Of course he won, why wouldn’t he? What was a few monsters against gods and titans? What was a few monsters against Percy Jackson?
Not a problem.
Or at least they shouldn’t be a problem. Not to him, anyways. He was the son of Poseidon, the child of prophecies, savior of the world. He was the demigod that refused to become a god, he was the unofficial leader, the guy who never backed down from a fight and wasn’t afraid to oppose the gods.
He was the hero, one of the strongest half-bloods, he was Percy Jackson.
And because of that, he knew that winning a fight didn’t automatically mean walking out of it on your own – or at all.
So yeah, Percy might have won the fight, but he lost his life at the same time.
When last of the reptilian monsters turned into a golden dust, he barely managed to do two shaky steps before his knees buckled and then he found his one forearm braced against the ground while the other hand pressed against the wound on his side, just between his ribs. With every passing second it was getting harder and harder to breath and if he was to guess he’d say that the dracanae managed to pierce his lung.
Yeah, he concluded after trying to take a breath, only to end up with wheezing and gasping and hurting, she definitely pierced his lung.
Hissing, Percy glanced down. He could feel the blood flowing out of his body, and it was equally gross and terrifying. His fingers were sticky from the thick liquid, the palm pressing against the wound crimson red. He found himself staring at the wound, completely frozen, watching as blood spread farther and farther, dripping onto the ground and creating a small puddle.
Percy let out a wheezy laugh. He was all alone with no help in sight, quickly losing blood, but he was sure he’ll choke to death even before he manages to bleed out.
What a pathetic way to go, Jackson.
It was unfair. He fought Titans and Gigantes, he fought gods. He fought in countless battles, won wars, and yet some insignificant dracanaes were what brought him down. But he had learned a long time ago that his whole life was unfair.
He could no nothing. When he tried to stand, his legs gave up almost instantly. He fell down, inhaling some dirt along the way. Groaning, Percy twisted so he was lying on his back instead, staring at the branches that were covering the sky.
He should have never wondered in the forest. But he was on a tasking, fulfilling a mission, a quest, when the dracanaes spotted him. There was nothing else he could do than lure them into the forest if he didn’t want to endanger normal humans, which he didn’t.
Maybe he should have. Maybe then he wouldn’t die alone.
He was running out of time. It was ironic. Percy knew that death will come one day. He knew it’ll be sooner than it should be. That was the inevitable destiny that came with being a demigod, after all. He knew that someone like him could never die from old age; he knew he would die in a battle.
Percy just never expected to go like this. Not after everything that had happened, not after everything he had went through.
He should have expected it. And maybe a part of him did expect it. He had known the Fates were cruel.
Cold wind flew by, making the leaves rustle and the branches move. The breath he let out was shaky and he wasn’t sure whether it was from the chilly wind or the wounds. Probably from the wounds, as his whole body was shaking.
He blinked, staring at the sun above him. What he would to see clouds right now. What he would do for a storm, for a light rain, even. His whole being surged forward, searching for water. A lake, a river, a puddle, just some water, at least something, anything that could give him strength, that he could use to call for his father, but he only found dry land and trees and dirt.
Something in him twisted. He couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore and he didn’t even try. The image of endless sea that filled his mind was much more pleasant than anything he could see around himself. He felt the pull of the ocean, he felt it’s calling, and Percy answered without thinking about it.
Perseus. No. Please no.
He recognized that voice on instant. He would recognize it everywhere. All at once Percy relaxed, the tension leaving his muscles. The pain lessened a little. He couldn’t see it but Percy was sure he was smiling.
Dad, he answered, nearly in awe. He didn’t know he had sent a prayer, but he was glad it was heard. Poseidon’s presence calmed his mind and body. Until now, he didn’t realize how much the thought of dying alone scared him.
“Hold on, Percy.” It took him a while to register that the voice wasn’t in his mind anymore. He probably wouldn’t have even noticed had it not been for the strong hands that picked him up and cradled him to someone’s chest. “You’ll survive.”
Percy used to hate when his father lied to him. He didn’t mind this lie, though.
Not even gods could defy death.
It was too late.
He felt a shift, and then he found himself surrounded by the ocean. Immense relief filled his flew over his body, chasing away the fear and pain.
You’re home, the ocean whispered. You’re safe. You can rest now.
He was in his element. He was in the water. He felt the currents, felt the water creatures that welcomed their prince, felt his father’s omnipresent presence filled with anger and sadness.
The water was trying to heal him but the damage was done and soon, it stopped. It knew, just like Percy did.
Like the Fates did.
It was ironic and unfair and Percy wanted to scream and shout, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t supposed to die like this, it wasn’t supposed to end like this – except it was because when all was said and done, when all the battles had been fought and the danger went away, there was no need for someone like him. Who needed a weapon when there was peace? Who needed a hero when the world wasn’t ending?
He was surrounded by water and yet he couldn’t breath. He was surrounded by water and yet he barely felt his body. The world was fading away, until everything disappeared and only the ocean remained. It welcomed him with open arms, calm and peaceful, loving and infinite. It made him feel safe, it made him feel home.
He was drifting in the water, the waves rocking him soothingly.
And finally, Percy answered the ocean’s call.