Chapter Thirty-Four
Everything was falling apart. Dick had been treated for his burns, bruises and concussion by Alfred, but he hadn't said a word since we'd brought him back to the manor. Jason hadn't even come back. He'd run off as soon he'd passed Dick's crying form over to Bruce, and none of us had seen him since. Damian had disappeared to Gods-know-where, probably beating up the training dummies in the gym. Bruce was closed in his office. He had to come up with a story about how Tim had died to give to the press.
I was packing my bag again. I had hardly unpacked it from the whole Minos thing, and now I was stocking it with anything I would need for my journey- ambrosia, my remaining nectar, my dagger, some mortal food, water, an extra sweater, and a small flute I had in my shadow pocket, for emergencies like this. It had only been two hours since Tim had died. The quicker I left, the better chance we had.
I was going to bring Tim back.
I had done it before, with Hazel, and I hadn't even really meant to then. I would be more prepared this time. Plus, Hades wasn't around to tell me it was breaking whatever law of the underworld or some other legal jargon. Not that I would listen.
I didn't really trust my powers after receiving the blessing, but I had to shadow-travel to the doors of Orpheus. There was no way anyone in this house was going to let me leave. They had already lost Tim, and I didn't want them to think they were losing me, too. If I locked my door, there was a good chance I would be left alone for long enough to hopefully get to the Underworld, find Tim, and get back out before anyone noticed I was missing. They were all so busy grieving Tim's death that they wouldn't think twice about me locking myself in my room for hours. But still, I left a hastily-written letter on my desk, just in case. It was written in Greek, but I assumed it wouldn't be much of a problem for them to translate it.
I shouldered my bag and sighed, glancing around the room. I really wanted this to work out. Not just for me, for everyone. If things with the prophecy went sideways, at least I could have a real family to fall back on. But I needed them all here, and that meant Tim, too, no matter how much I got the feeling he resented me. And so I slipped into the shadows, and pictured Central Park, aiming for the big collection of rocks that hid the doors.
The journey was quicker than usual, but other than that, nothing felt different. Maybe my father's blessing was more of a latent power?
The doors opened as soon as I had played my little flute melody. I had improved considerably since the last time I'd come here. I had discovered that the small instrument was actually pretty enjoyable to play, and had picked up quite a few different tunes during my time abroad, and some lessons with Will and a few satyrs had helped, too. The stairway down was just as foreboding and dark and I remembered, and the descent was long and tedious.
When I reached the bottom, I took a few moments to calibrate my inner compass before I began walking. Given the amount of time Tim had been dead for, he was probably still in the long line of recently dead, waiting to get into the Underworld, so that's where I headed. If I couldn't find him there, my next stop was Elysium, since I had a feeling all the Waynes would end up there.
When I reached the gates to the Underworld, I was able to slip through as a few souls passed in from the other side. Once outside the gates, I could see the line stretched out in front of me. I tried not to let my gaze linger too long on any of the souls there- some could be quite tragic, like the little blonde girl in a pair of dirt-stained overalls that couldn't be more than seven. Instead, I made my way down the line, scanning the faces for a black-haired teenager.
As I made it further and further down and still hadn't found Tim, I started to worry. So many people were always dying, constantly- there were hundreds joining the line even as I searched. I couldn't be too late. Not like with Bianca. I would find Tim and I would get him home.
Finally- finally, I glimpsed a head of dark hair that seemed familiar, the soul seemed to be calling out to me, a soft yellow glow to its aura. Tim. I knew that sometimes recently dead souls suffered a brief lapse in memory, unable to recall their families or lives. It helped with a smooth transition to the afterlife. The souls who did remember usually couldn't move on, and some remained in the world of the living as ghosts, or some- like Tim, it appeared- just became incredibly confused and discombobulated.
"Nico?" He muttered when I caught up to him. "Where are we? I thought I..."
I gently grabbed Tim's arm and tugged him out of the line, into the shade of the wall that bordered the Underworld's entrance. And then I hugged him. I had hugged very few people in my life, I could count every person I'd ever hugged with one hand. But Gods, was I glad to see Tim. "The others are a mess without you," I said once I let go after a few seconds. "Dick hasn't said a single word, and I'm pretty sure Jason is probably killing off the entirety of Gotham's villain pantheon right now, if he hasn't managed to get himself killed yet."
"I died." Tim said. It wasn't a question, but a statement directed firmly at me.
I sighed. "Yeah. I don't know what happened, really. There was an accident while you and Dick were on patrol, I guess. None of us could get there in time. You were caught in an explosion...there wasn't even anything to recover. Everyone's all messed up over it, and I know I'm probably pushing my 'son of Hades' privileges, but I had to do something. You're their family, Tim. You left behind so much, and you left it all too soon. I don't care what the stupid laws are, I couldn't leave you down here." I was ranting, and I knew it. It was probably too much for Tim to handle, considering he had to come to terms with his literal death, but I was so relieved that by some fluke, I hadn't been too late that the words just kept coming, until Tim had to actually place his palm over my mouth so he could speak.
"I died." He repeated. "I was blown up, and you're saying you can bring me back?" I nodded behind his hand. "How does that even work?!"
He was definitely freaking out now. I pushed his hand away. "Relax, Tim. I've done this before. I know what I'm doing. You won't be a zombie or anything crazy. You'll be you. There won't even be any weird side effects, like with the Pits. You'll just be you again, and you can come home."
Tim gave me a long look, debating something behind his cloudy grey eyes. Finally, he nodded. "Okay. I trust you. You seem to know a lot about this kind of stuff, so." He finally looked around, taking in the long line of people, the endlessly flat landscape, and the tall wall that stretched in either direction as far as he could see. "Where are we? This doesn't look like heaven. Or hell, really."
"We're in the Underworld." I began leading him back to the gates. "This is the entrance, more specifically. All souls who die make their way here. When they enter, they're judged before a panel of judges, who weigh their life and decide which field to put them in." Tim nodded. He likely knew most of this stuff already, he seemed like the research sort of person.
We slipped back through the gates, and I began leading the way back to the doors. Tim remained silent, except to thank me when I dug out the extra sweater for him- the Underworld was known to be cold for anyone not accustomed to it. He finally spoke up when we reached the stairs back up to Central Park.
"So how does this work?"
"Do you know the legend of Orpheus?" I asked. It was a fairly common story, so I figured he'd know it.
"Yeah. That dude whose girlfriend got stuck here because he looked back, right?"
I nodded. "Pretty much. At least, I think that's how it works, but I'm not sure. The last time I did this, we were both careful not to look back and it worked, but I don't know what will happen if we do."
Tim looked up the staircase, then back at me. "So there's a chance I might end up stuck dead forever?"
I shook my head. "No. If I have to dig a gods-damned tunnel, I will get you back home. I promise." That's absolutely not how the Underworld worked, but Tim didn't need to know that.
He took a deep, fortifying breath and nodded. "Alright then. Let's go home."
hey guys its been a tough while for me lately with a ton of emotional things having happened/surfacing lately and i've struggeled to find my inspiration to continue writing. I do have a ton of things planned for this story, so rest assured that even if it seems like it, i'm not abandoning yall.
okay i think this is round seven? im not sure bUT put a finger down if your best friend lives a bike ride away from your house
also what do you say when a hen sees a bowl of lettace?
......chicken sees her salad!!! **wheezes**