north

xix, penance

The elevator music really isn't helping Nico's breakdown.

His arms strain to keep the elevator doors closed. Dark purple energy from the inbetween of Tartarus and the human world seeps in, shocking him, trying to get him to loosen his grip. But he does not relent, no matter the fire in his joints, the agony in his heart. He's gulping air too fast and too harsh, too much but he can't stop. He's only just holding himself together.

The lighthearted tune playing only serves to aggravate him and rattle the doors. He watches the numbers on the display tick obnoxiously slow. The minutes become hours. I'm really doing this, he thinks. I'm getting out of Tartarus.

But Nico is alone.

I'm finally almost free.

But Jason.

The moment those lips brushed his stained cheek is still burning him, still searing through all his pretense. He tries to slow his panicked breaths. Gods be damned if he's going to pass out after everything he's been through and waste Jason's noble gesture. His stupid, brash, noble gesture.

Jason was wrong and Nico is the death of him. That thought itches and burns new blisters all over him.

How can he let go of Percy after everything that's happened--after the mansion, but he can't let go of Jason now? Of course Nico knows why, but he won't entertain that thought. Hold on tightly, let go lightly, his mother always told him. No matter what he does, he can never hold on tight enough and at the same time can never let go.

He can still feel Jason's heartbeat. His life force is still consistent. Faint, but it's there, and it's all Nico has. He holds in bile when the elevator jolts and Jason's aura flickers. How is he supposed to face everyone now? How can he explain that Jason sacrificed his life for Nico? For someone that none of them knew he knew, knew he cared about so much, cared about more than anyone's ever cared for Nico and maybe more than Jason's cared for anyone--

But that's wishful thinking.

And the worst part is that Nico can't die. He can't crawl away from this because Jason would berate him for the selfishness in his selflessness. His throat would get tight and his blue eyes would storm. Eventually it would fade, as it always did, and he would forgive Nico.

Nico is unable to fathom anything Jason does for him. Even though he knows the answer, it scares him and so he does what he always does:runs. From Camp Half-Blood, from Camp Jupiter, from Bianca, from Percy, from Kronos, from Gaea, from Tartarus, into Jason's arms.

He had to run from that too.

Gods, he has to tell Hazel, doesn't he? He'll have to tell everyone and they'll hate him, hate him even more for how disgusting he is and what he's done--dragging Jason into Tartarus and corrupting him, tricking him into saving Nico's life and leaving him for dead--dead--Jason's going to die and it's all my fault--

Nico is in full panic mode again and lets out a raspy, keening whine. "Sor--" he gasps out. "Sorry--Jason, I'm sorry--s-so sorry Jay... Jason..." He repeats his name over and over, a mantra, all that keeps him upright. Nico apologizes for a lot, first and foremost being his apology in the first place, because he knows Jason would shake his head and murmur assurances that Nico isn't to blame. But he's still sorry for so much.

Not letting Jason get close. Not telling Jason he knew him. Not telling Jason how he felt. Feels.

The climbing levels of the elevator no longer register. Nico tries to picture Jason as his aura flickers again. Filthy, but comfortable with the warmth of Nico's jacket. His chin dotted with the slightest stubble. His hair long enough to develop a lovely wave, even covered in blood and dirt. The endless sky that lies in his gaze.