#c:z

It was dark. Though it wasn’t the simple darkness of night that seemed to cast itself over the young blonde kneeling on the ground. It was complete and utter pitch black that covered every surface, an inky shade so obscure that it was almost difficult to tell if there were shadows within the shadows, moving as if the murky and velvety depths of it might actually hide something sinister. They always started this way. The nightmares that had plagued Annabeth since her and Percy’s escape from Tartarus. At one point she’d gotten to a place where they had been happening with less frequency, but after having witnessed the burning of the Senate building...it seemed that the heat of the fire and yelling demigods had awoken her memories of Tartarus.

If she was being truthful, her and nighttime terrors had always had a somewhat close relationship, ever since she’d been a little girl and the spiders had come at night to bite at her in retribution for Athena’s curse on Arachne. Even now, Annabeth could feel the minuscule legs of hundreds of spiders crawling over her skin, though the darkness surrounding her didn’t permit her to see them. Instantly she began to shiver and shudder as chills wracked her. Defeating Arachne had done little to curb her phobia of spiders, and she could already feel the panic rising in her throat as she tried to brush the black arachnids away frantically.

Remaining conscious for long periods of time always had a fatal flaw. In Z’s case, that flaw manifested as terrible naps that drew him away from any tasks he was hoping to accomplish. He had known such a thing was coming, much like the elderly claimed to know when the heavens would part for storms. Z had always blamed it on his power, but recently began to assume it was because of his father’s domain and his attuning to it. For preparations, he turned his bed into a nest of pillows and blankets, poured himself a nice cup of tea, and cleaned his face to avoid getting anything on his precious linens. It took less than a few seconds after his head landed on a pillow before his consciousness was being pulled away from his body. Z preferred to dream walk instead of having any of his own, desperate to avoid the demons of his past manifesting themselves behind his eyelids. He had to be careful with whom he chose in his new environment. There were so many traumatic experiences from the demigods and legacies alike. Faces of monsters and men, gods and horrors plagued them in ways he would rather die than stand against. There had been so much that happened behind the veil of mist, curtains that Z was thankful never drew back while he was attending the play known as Life

Typically, Z’s form took on a resemblance to his father. Bright white wings sprouted from his back and allowed him to navigate through minds like the true demigod he was, but in recent times, he found it best to take on the form of a raven. Being absolutely angelic was effective in NYC because it was a virtue to be blessed by him at night, but that was different here. The amount of post-traumatic stress would probably make his flying form an easily recognizable farce, or worse…a target. His eyes, which almost always took on the color of bubblegum, were swallowed by his pupils as he settled on a nightmare in progress. They allowed him to see through anything, which in this case meant watching as a girl was attacked by spiders. The names Annabeth, Arachne, and Tartarus whispered to him, enticing him to stay. Memories were enthralling that way; and, he was too weak to refuse.

“Get off me!” She called out to no avail. Annabeth should have known better than to try such silly tactics of yelling them away. If anything, it only seemed to make the spiders crawl over her more avidly, the incessant tapping of their infinite legs already chipping away at her stability. With a panicked choke, she shut her eyes tight, as if it would help anything. But it was rather useless when she had already only been cloaked in darkness, and her arms wrapped around herself as if trying to physically hold herself together. It was rather amazing, how it took only moments for a remarkably strong woman to began to crumble. In the waking world she was known for her wit and bravery, but in the darkness— when she was alone…there was a secret that leaked out of her. She was only strong in front of others. Ever since she could remember, she’d been looked to for guidance and confidence. But when there was no one to look to her, only herself— it was infinitely harder to don the mask of indifference and sureness that she wore when conscious.

But suddenly she rose from the ground, hands balled into fists as if by some miracle she’d managed to find her strength. With another yell she stomped her foot to the ground. “I said, leave!” And just like that the spiders were gone. There was a split moment of relief before a realization came to her. There was a sound emitting from the darkness, a sort of…cracking? It was soon joined by Arachne’s familiar cackle, and suddenly the floor beneath the foot she had stomped began to fissure, a bright and glowing orange that erupted until there was no floor left. And Annabeth was left to fall through the crumbling floor. The strangest thing was the smudge of white she noticed above her. A single white bird floating above her gave her the smallest sense of peace as the wind rushed past her, and she feel for what felt like eternities. It was out of place. but not entirely unwelcome. But it wasn’t to last as she slammed into the floor. Rising once more from the ground, she gasped as pain erupted over her every inch of skin. The familiar toxic air of Tartarus was quickly filling her lungs, and as coughs violently shook her it was back to the ground she went. At least their was light now, though it was more of a constant throbbing red that the true light of the sun. As her lungs continued to try and expel the poisonous air, she could see the enormous blisters that had formed over her skin. When she’d actually been in Tartarus, there had been Percy to heal them away. But now she was utterly alone.

Closer inspection from his dream-awarded night vision showed the spiders as more apparition than reality. It as almost like watching the girl being haunted by hundreds of miniature ghosts, all in the form of spiders. Their bodies were wispy and thin, cruel in texture and in appearance. All in all, he wondered what would’ve happened had she gotten a true look at the creatures torturing her. Ordinary spiders were already the cause of one of the most common fears; smoky spider ghosts were like an excessive amount of terror. By some stroke of confidence, she had managed to muster up enough energy to get up. The spiders followed the motion like they were programmed to, but scattered away from the frightened girl when demanded they leave. He only had but a moment to revel in her strength before she was sent plummeting through the floor. Z dove down after her.

His form had shifted with the light, taking on the coloring of a dove rather than a raven as he fought a further transformation. Let it be known that he almost reached out to save her, trauma be damned. He was thankful he thought better of it as he landed on a floating platform, head cocked to the side as he landed on a platform he manipulated into existence. The air filled with a miasma that he was immune to as it was but a memory of Annabeth’s. In the wake of any toxicity, Z’s eyes flashed through memories of pure agony. Of all the things the other demigods he watched had been through, Annabeth took the proverbial cake made of pure, unadulterated shit. She had been trapped for what she felt like were eons. There was a boy beside her: Percy Jackson. He took care of her as she did him, but was nowhere to be found in the present dream. She was alone and it was taking its toll on her.

The blisters only kept coming as Annabeth’s eyes squeezed shut, as if she could block out the pain somehow. But it was to no avail. Just when it felt as it she would be consumed by the agony, a voice came from the distance. It was a voice she’d recognize anywhere. Percy. He was here somewhere. And as his tones washed over her it was as if the healing waves he’d summoned during their time in Tartarus were driving the blisters away. But it was only a brief moment of relief. For a single moment he was there. Standing right in front of her with that dorky smile that she’d first found infuriating when they were young, but was now the thing that was a direct line to her happiness. “Percy,” she spoke out in alleviation. If Percy was here— if they were together— she knew it would be okay. But in the next instant his form flickered from existence, as if he was a badly tuned TV channel. “No, Percy!” And just like that her personal hell was back. It was the same as it had been when the arai had attacked them. There was the deep feeling that he was near, and yet she couldn’t see nor hear him. “Percy?!” He was here. She knew he was. He had to be. People didn’t just disappear into thin air. And there was that unmistakable sense that he was near. But it was no use. Just as when Percy had been invisible to her due to Calypso’s curse so was he now. “Percy— please,” she choked out.

There was something deliciously enticing about nightmares, especially those driven by trauma. His powers of memory diving were strongest in times of his targets’ distress as the avenues for subconscious travel were wide open. What Annabeth went through allowed him to see how the arachnaphobia had affected her throughout her life. Z saw the way the nights were filled with their attacks, and they would disappear by sunlight, leaving her floundering to explain the cobwebs to her stepmother. According to her own studies, Annabeth knew that spiders were particularly cruel to children of Athena. Now, Z had that information to store away as she went through the second phase of her nightmare. Once his meddling had finished, he focused then on the apparition of Percy. What did he mean to her?

He was like a tether, strong and unwavering when she needed it most. She was the anchor for others, but there weren’t any for her until he came around. Z understood then why she’d called out for him and why the apparition of him came and went. There was a bond there that he’d heard about through whispers, but seeing it play out was somehow even more…Greek Tragedy. How fitting. Z had let it play out for longer than he should’ve. Fingering through her memories just seemed way too exciting to pass up, but he noticed that at this rate, she had the potential to trap herself here in this Hell. His avian body dispersed entirely without a single blip, and he manifested a spectral hand resembling Percy’s that was held out of a large white portal. “Take my hand,” he said in Percy’s voice, fingers splayed out open for her to grasp.

As Percy’s hand appeared in front of her and his voice rang out, it was as if the heavens themselves had opened up, but infinitely better. It was like the first gasping breath one would draw after nearly drowning, breaking the surface with a crack. Without hesitation Annabeth reached out towards the hand. This was Percy. There was seldom a time she would question going with him, especially in a situation such as this.  As her hand found his it was as if her entire body sighed a breath of relief. Things were going to be okay. Percy was the best anchor she could have ever asked for. Using his hand to help her stand, a newfound peace had come over here. She could be strong for Percy. It was easier than simply being strong for herself. “Thank you,” she breathed out. Her blisters were still burning and present, and she knew further dangers loomed in the dark, but it seemed that. for now, Percy had calmed the louder monsters of her nightmare. She still couldn’t see the rest of him, but she could guess that the glowing circle he was within was some sort of portal or the like, and she prepared to be rid of this literal nightmare.

The hand that quickly embraced his had a sick comfort to it. Somewhere deep down, Z was battling with the true implications of personifying someone so deeply close to Annabeth without living vicariously through the entity he was embodying. He was manipulating someone into believing he was a person of major interest to them. Regardless of if it were for the sole purpose of helping the person through something as traumatic as what she was going through currently, there was a definite breach of trust and a boundary he was crossing with pointed intention. Still, there was something fun about getting a chance to shapeshift within another's subconscious. As she pulled on his hand to stand, Z took the time to alter the rest of his form to resemble Percy's as he pulled her into his arms. "I've got you," he said softly, hands roaming over her arms to heal the blisters. "You have to wake up, Annabeth...Wake up!"