fogí

voice

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"Is she going to be okay?" Clarisse's voice was uncharacteristically shaky as she forced the words out. She stood across the room from Cameron, leaning against the wall and looking anywhere but at the table.

The table that held a bleeding, dying, silent Drew.

"She'll be fine!" Cameron's voice was more shrill than what he intended. "Everything is going to be fine!"

Everything was not fine. Annabeth was passed out upstairs. Drew looked close to death, the red of her blood pooling beneath her. Clarisse looked pale and sick, her eyes flashing. Chris was doing patrol, leaving Cameron to try and heal Drew. Cameron, who had no idea what to do.

He was watching a terrible crash, and he was standing in the middle of it. Cameron was watching it, but there was no way for him to stop it and sage Drew. All he could do was silently watch.

No. No, he could do more. Cameron took in a deep breath, and his rational voice floated through the panic in his mind: Find her injuries. Look for what's wrong.

Drew's body had several different wounds, each of them bleeding. Her stomach was the worst, but a deep cut ran jagged along her right bicep. And there were several cuts on her forehead and lips. She had fallen unconscious promptly after announcing her arrival, and had not woken up since.

What worried Cameron the most was Drew's hand. No, not her hand; he was most worried about what it was hiding, what she was concealing in order to stay alive. Her hand was blood-stained, and pressed tightly against her stomach.

As if trying to hold it inside her.

Cameron swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. Several demigods had died with injuries not as severe as this, and that was with a healer and actual supplies. And Cameron was a warrior, not a healer.

Come to me, a familiar voice whispered in his mind, and he hissed in pain as a green tint clouded his vision. Cameron shut his eyes to prevent her from seeing Drew and the state that she was in.

The tendril of Gaea caressed his mind once more, before fading away, disappointed. Then, the presence was gone.

"Cameron?" Clarisse asked, noting the look of pain flash across his face. But her voice was filled with dread.

He locked eyes with the girl. "She's summoning me. To go, right now."

Fear struck deep in her brown eyes. She stumbled two steps towards him, her hands half-way reaching out to him. "But you can't leave. You can't leave Drew. You have to help her."

Cameron inhaled raggedly, and tried to calm down. But that was easier said than done with one of his best friends having her life pumped out of her body.

Somehow, the world had gone to shit.

"I'm not a healer," he said out loud, desperation lining his tone. "I have no idea what to do, how to fix this."

Clarisse's flashing brown eyes met Cameron's. "And you think I do?" she asked shrilly. "Like it or not, you're her best chance right now. Cameron, find ambrosia or nectar. We have that. Find it, and give it to her."

Before he could move, Drew's eyes fluttered beneath shut eyelids. Her breathing grew rapid, and her hands clenched into fists. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

"Stay with me, Drew," Cameron said to his dying friend. "Because if you don't, I'll go the Underworld myself, and find you, and drag you back here just to kill you again. Don't you dare die on me."

Clarisse has there, suddenly, on her knees beside Drew. "Please don't die, Tanaka. Don't die on me again."

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Nico di Angelo had grown used to the voices.

It was the only way to stay sane, since the voices whispered in his mind constantly. The prayers for the dead, the pleading to die, the cries for help from the dying.

And the buzzing. The constant buzzing in his head. Every time that he began to believe he was used to it, it doubled in strength, and Nico began at square one all over again.

"Healer," a new voice said, this one very much real. Nico would never admit it, but it was getting more and more difficult to tell if the voices he heard were from the living or the dead.

The boy looked up, and saw a kid, no older than eleven, staring at him with wide brown eyes. Her hair was tied back in a knotted ponytail, and dirt streaked her face.

She was one of Hazel's helpers, one of the many children that flocked around Nico's sister. Hazel had become a source of solace and hope for everyone at Olympus, especially the younger demigods.

"Yeah?"

"There's a meeting," the girl responded, her eyes darting around Nico's tent.

He grudgingly followed her darting gaze. Several cots with unmade sheets were cramped in random spaces. Two of the ones shoved in the back belonged to him and Will. Bandages, ambrosia, and nectar were always kept in large quantities in the healing tent. The light through the faded white material of the tent cast a yellow glow on the inside, giving everything a tinted look.

It was a place that starved for miracles, and reeked of disappointment.

And, somehow, it was also Nico's home.

"A meeting?" he asked. The girl nodded.

"It's in Jason Grace's tent," she clarified.

Nico nodded as more pleading voices filled his mind. "I know where to find it. Thank you for telling me."

The girl gave him a grim nod, and quickly turned on her heel and disappeared.

Nico sighed to himself in the empty tent. Will was still gone, no doubt searching for more materials. With so many people here, Olympus was forever running low on supplies.

Shrugging on his worn black coat, Nico walked out of the healing tent, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

Outside, the air was cold and desperate. But it did not bother Nico; he been through much worse than a little chill. However, it seemed to scare the majority of the Olympians into his or her tent instead of training.

It was sad what the demigods has become: broken soldiers. Hopeless heroes. Wounded warriors. Once destined to be legends, they were now just kids fighting for survival in a damned world.

Jason's tent was located at the top of the biggest hill in Olympus, and waving flags greeted Nico. He smiled to himself; it was amazing how far Jason had come. Though he had always been a leader, he was viewed as a god here.

Then again, so was everyone inside the tent.

Nico opened up the flaps, and walked inside. Gusts of warm air and Hazel's arms engulfed him instantly.

"You look skinnier, somehow," his sister said, her golden eyes swimming with worry.

"Since yesterday?"

Hazel frowned at his response. "Have you eaten today?"

No.

"Yes," he said aloud. "Stop worrying so much about me, Hazel. There are more important things."

"Saving others isn't going to save yourself," Hazel said softly.

Nico's eyes looked over her shoulder, however, and watched as Reyna Ramírez-Arellano approached him. Wordlessly, they embraced.

Hazel gave Nico a last long look that reawakened a squirming guilt inside his stomach. Then, she stepped away, allowing the two to talk.

"Reyna," Nico said, as if believing it was not her. "How are you? How did it go?"

"You won't believe this," she murmured in his ear, ignoring his questions, "but Jason is more stressed today that he was last week."

Nico let go, and grinned upwards at the girl. Reyna had just returned from a mission to recruit as many forgotten monsters and minor gods she could find. Those missions had killed demigods in the past, and Nico found himself thanking every god for not adding Reyna's name to that list.

He was thankful that no one in here had disappeared yet. Because Jason's tent was full with what used to be the Seven of the Prophecy. Minus two members. Plus three.

Jason was at the head of the table, Piper McLean standing slightly behind him. Though they were not touching, there was a certain intimacy surrounding them that no one dared to infiltrate. To their right sat Leo Valdez, whose head was bent all the way down to work on whatever new gadget he was creating. Next to him sat Rachel Dare, who was wringing her hands together anxiously.

Across the table, on the other side of Jason, was an empty chair, no doubt Reyna's. Frank Zhang was seated next to it, his hand interlocked with Hazel's, who had sat back down.

The Heroes of Olympus. The gods of this Olympus, the protectors and guardians of these people.

Nico took his seat, and silence fell over the tent. Not because of him, but because of what his arrival indicated; the meeting was going to begin.

Jason ran a hand through his hair, and looked around the tent. "Everyone hanging in there?"

Leo let out a dry laugh. Jason looked at his friend, and cracked a smile. "Yeah. Me too."

Nico watched Piper squeeze Jason's hand, and he found himself missing Will again.

"Obviously, She hasn't found us yet," Jason continued. "Or else we'd all be dead."

Humorless smiles reflected across the table. Smiles filled with too much knowledge and recent memories.

"Kind of strange that the floating island works for us the same way it worked for Leto eons ago," said Frank. "And She still hasn't thought to look here."

"She" was what they called Gaea in order to remain under the radar. Names held power, a lesson that they all prayed not to learn the hard way.

"But Olympus has a nicer ring to it than Delos," said Reyna.

Olympus. With Gaea running the world, the true Olympus was doubtlessly already reduced to rubble. But Olympus was nothing but a spirit, a state of mind. As long as people believed, that was where Olympus is.

"If this is Olympus, then we're it's gods," Rachel muttered softly, her fingers still wrapping around themselves.

Nico winced as the voices in his mind returned with double the force. "I'm not a healer," the voice said, shrill with desperation.

That's what I used to think. Now, people just call me 'Healer', Nico thought to himself. He attempted to drown out the voices.

"...still don't know where Percy is," Jason continued. "But we're still looking. We're not giving up hope yet."

And they never would. As long as their hearts beat in their chests, they would still hope that both Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase were alive, hopefully together.

But after the battle against the giants, after Annabeth's capture...Percy had not been himself. And then, one day, he had just disappeared. Over a year ago.

No one had seen him since.

Percy, Annabeth, Clarisse, Grover, and countless other campers missing.

"Stay with me, Drew. Because if you don't, I'll go the Underworld myself, and find you, and drag you back here just to kill you again. Don't you dare die on me."

Nico clenched his hands into fists. Why was this voice so loud? This unfamiliar, pleading voice that had no right no be inside of his head.

"We'll find them," Piper promised, first to Jason, then to the rest. "No matter what."

"Please don't die, Tanaka. Don't die on me again."

Nico inhaled sharply, wind whistling through his teeth. All heads swiveled towards him, eyes narrowed slightly with curiosity.

"It's not Percy or Annabeth," he said. "But there's no mistaking that voice. I think I just found Clarisse, and possibly Drew Tanaka."