Nico is never accepting a dare from Percy again
Nico looks to Percy, then back to the unconscious Red Hood laying in the grave, surrounded by McDonalds and various sodas that have yet to completely seep into the soil.
“I mean, we could just leave him?” He suggests meekly through the palm of his hand. Percy whips his head around to deliver a scandalized look.
“What?!” Nico defends himself, “He’s out like a light, we could just leave!”
“It’s our fault he’s here.” Percy says.
“You went along with it!”
“Because I thought we’d get the ghost of, like, some teenager in a cape! If we got a ghost at all! Not-” Nico sputters and dramatically gestures to the built-like-a-truck, very clearly still alive, vigilante, thankfully still unconscious and laying face-down in the grave, “That!”
The Red Hood stirs a bit at Nico’s shouts, twitching in the grave and knocking over a happy meal box with his foot. Both him and Percy freeze and hold their breath, but he doesn’t move any more.
Nico lets out a sigh of relief before he starts talking again, quietly, this time. “And besides, what do we do if we don’t leave? Stick around and wait for him to wake up?” He questions, voice taking on a strained lilt.
“I don’t know!” Percy hisses, before taking a deep breath, “It just feels like a jerk move to leave him there.” He admits.
Nico sighs again, his breath crystalizing before his eyes as he scans the cemetery. “...Maybe we could, I don’t know, like, take him out of the hole, then leave?” He suggests. The compromise sounds stupid even to his own ears, which is why he’s entirely unsurprised when Percy perks up and nods his head.
“Okay,” Nico affirms, “Go grab the shovels, we can dig a ramp or something.”
Percy nods and runs over to grab the two shovels they’d used to dig the hole. “We’re like the Winchesters.” He jokes, stifling laughter at Nico’s groan.
Jason wakes up feeling like shit. His head is pounding, his ears are ringing, and the ground feels oddly soft beneath him. With a quiet huff, he tries to push himself up, but his body feels numb, like when you lose feeling in your leg after sitting down for too long. His foot hits something, and he goes limp again. There are- voices? He thinks.
“That!” Yeah, definitely voices,
“-around and wait for him to wake up?” Whoever else is here doesn’t know he’s up, that’s good. Jason isn’t restrained, just numb. His head is clear, save for the pain, but it feels more like a migraine than anything, so he’s probably not drugged.
“I don’t know!” Another voice, it sounds distressed, maybe a witness? They sound young, mid to late teens, probably. A sigh, “It just feels like a jerk move to leave him there.” Same person, less freaked out, if he focuses, Jason can hear them breathing, in for four, hold for five, out for seven.
There’s a pause, and then the voice from earlier is talking again, “Maybe we could, I don’t know, take him out of the hole, then leave?” He’s in a hole then, that explains why the ground is soft, gonna be a pain to get the mud outta his jacket, though.
“Okay,” The same voice continues, they’ve got an accent, Italian, maybe, but it’s faded. “Go grab the shovels, we can dig a ramp or something.” So they’re the ones that dug the hole, but why is Jason in it?
There’s footsteps leading away from Jason, probably the person grabbing the shovels. The numbness is fading, now, and he’s grateful his helmet keeps the dirt out of his face. The footsteps come back, slower this time. “We’re like the Winchesters.” The person jokes, much to the apparent dismay of their friend.
The digging of the ramp takes a while, and the last dredges of numbness fades from Jason’s limbs and he finally succeeds in pushing himself to his feet. The duo shrieks a bit when he stands up. This ought to be fun.
He’s surrounded by fast food and soda bottles for… Some reason. He chooses to ignore that and wipes the mud off his helmet so that he can get a closer look at the maybe-civilians.
Two guys, the taller one looked maybe seventeen or so with messy black hair and eyes a strange shade of sea-green. The shorter one was a couple years younger, also with black hair, which did nothing to help his already pale complexion.
“This is your fault.” The shorter one hisses at Green-Eyes, “If we’d just left him we wouldn’t be in this mess!”
“You’re the one who brought him here!” Green-Eyes protests. And what does he mean by that? Because Jason is going to have a hard time believing that this skinny bean-pole of a teenager in a leather jacket knocked him out and threw him in a hole all on his own.
“It was your idea!” Short defends himself.
“Well you agreed to do it! We all know my ideas are bad!”
“Ahem.” Jason fake-coughs. The duo’s heads snap towards him so quick Jason was surprised he didn’t hear a snap.
“It was his fault!” The two shout as one, simultaneously pointing at each other. Jason is reminded of a pair of elementary schoolers tattling on each other to a teacher.
