Clockwork

49

Percy wasn't in water. Whatever was filling his lungs wasn't air but it most definitely wasn't water. Something dark and murky suffocated him and muffled his screams simultaneously. Memories rushed into his mind, but still, they were muddled by the terror gripping his overfilled lungs.

All he could remember was him reigning victorious over thousands of monsters. Covered in golden dust and armed with nothing but determination and his sword as he took on armies. Yet here he was, drowning. The son of a sea god, drowning. He would die full of fear in something he should be able to control.

Monsters. Gods. Death itself. Countless times he had escaped eternal doom with a careless smile and his sword, but now?

He was paralyzed.

Something told him he could escape. He should escape. In fact, there were only detrimental results were he to not escape.

And yet Percy drowned in fear long before whatever this stuff was trapped him into an increasingly familiar darkness.

Luckily, though, the fear died with him.

How many times has he died now? He's shooting for a new record.

He came back quickly this time, almost seamlessly, his eyes opening like he was waking up from a bad dream.

And it was almost normal.

He was sitting in a vast grassy field, surrounded by chattering spirits, watching his kids--kids, plural, why were there so many?-- run around with Annabeth hurriedly following behind them. It was nice and relaxing, a refreshing feeling. He was completely human, no wires, no oil, even having the gall to be completely unarmed with no armor and none of his weapons drawn. He was simply enjoying nature-- something Percy held a grudge against for numerous reasons.

His children, whom Annabeth accompanied as they played about, yelled to get his attention when they climbed something they weren't supposed to, but Percy could only recognize two.

Kenneth and Kai, their sea-green eyes full of long-forgotten mirth as Kai held the younger on her back as they raced three other children. Three other children that Percy recognized but at the same time, he had no clue as to who they were. He knew they were his kids, but he didn't know their names, and the littlest one, a small boy with the most penetrating gaze with two eyes that didn't match smiled at him when he noticed Percy looking, two front teeth missing as he ran towards him, his arms outstretched.

No.
No.
No.
No.
No.

No? Why? The voices of warning didn't answer, and his small son got closer, the voices got louder.

No.
No!
NO!
Stop him!
Don't let it end yet!

It was too late though, he was already within arms reach.

"Papa!" The little boy said happily. Then he was gone, and the scene before him changed into something Percy had expected to see from the beginning.

It was underwhelming. Percy, unable to interact with anything around him, witnessed the pitiful and gruesome scene of his own murder. Bits and pieces that had blurred in his mind became disturbingly clear.

How weak he had been in that moment. And how silent nature had been that day. There was not a sound from the gossiping nature spirits.

The plants had the moisture drained out of them with Percy intending to try to save himself, but the water quickly sank back down to the earth. He had remembered how heavy everything felt. Usually, he could only remember the pain, but now he could only recall the weight. The weight of the water, the weight of the blade carving his skin. The weight of the healed over scars. The weight of Annabeth's betrayal, the weight of his own hatred, eventually the weight of his own eyelids. Now Percy had expected this moment, even though he never considered it a fear. It was his death, something as long as it lasted, it was over in an instant. But some things lasted longer.