The Lord Of The Pit had picked up many trades in his time, he had learnt all kinds of skills and developed all manner of equitiques. However, he was decidedly, not a healer, his domain more suited to killing things and inflicting pain than removing it.

Yet, even as Perseus woke up, Tartarus hovered, keeping out of sight, watching his siblings work on their father's chosen. He couldn't drag himself away be it from guilt or interest; he had almost killed the first lead to their father's disappearance that there had been in eons.

If the brat died, all leads to Chaos died with him and so did hope for a cure to the curse End had given them.

It had nothing to do with the brat's eyes, how even when they were glazed with fear they shone like emeralds, the brightest thing there was in his domain of darkness.

...

The sensation of two hands gliding featherlight across his burnt back, bringing with them a sweet cool sensation was all he could feel as reality slowly began to slip back in. Percy was powerless to stop the soft whimper that left his lips, his eyes fluttering open and shut.

Someone was spreading some kind of paste, over what he deduced had to be the worst sunburn in history. Had he fallen asleep in the sun? Passed out on the beach again and been found by some unlucky Apollo camper that had dragged him to Will?

No. That wasn't right. Will's hands were always warm. These were cold, unnaturally so.

Sea green eyes blinked open, ah. The tell-tale white of an infirmary bed obscured his vision from where he lay on his stomach, and his memories started to realign.

The slope of the bed near his legs told him that another sat close by and he didn't have to be an Athena child to know that it had to be the person tending to him. A woman probably, not that he was making a generalisation, but the person's hands were soft, incredibly soft.

The sea prince slowly began to piece together the past events like a jigsaw puzzle though before he could solve it, he made a pained groan as the person's hands brushed against a particularly sore area.

"Child?" A smooth dark voice whispered, "Are you awake?"

He whined immediately, making to pull away from the person turning towards the voice of the man. His being screamed at him that he wasn't safe, and he wasn't one to ignore the instincts that had kept him alive for so long, no matter how good what he was experiencing felt right now.

"Don't be stubborn, little one." A  female voice chided in amusement, pinning him down, the woman.

A small smile twitched onto his lips, satisfaction rolling through him at being right at least partially about his healers(?)

Nyx and Erebus. The small whisper in his mind told him their identities. The names were familiar, it made him crinkle his nose as he tried to think of why they were so striking.

"Hmm" he murmured in tired confirmation, he'd figure it out later, probably. "Will?" he muttered sleepily, "Did you catch the licence of the truck that ran me over?" He yawned.

A chuckle was his response, as the man stroked his back in comfort, and another hand started to pet his hair. "Sleep child."

He shifted, that wasn't Will. His eyes watered, "Will?" he whispered again, he didn't like this, he felt lost, he didn't know who these people were and his instincts screamed against being pliant for them.

"Shhh..... It's alright... Go back to sleep." The man said again in a voice like honey. Who was this man with the velvet voice? This... This was Erebus?

For the first time, the voice in his head was just as confused as he was.

"Who?......" he trailed off as unwillingly his eyes began to slip shut and his body began to shut down.

"My name is Nyx, this is my husband, Erebus. You are safe, little one, go back to sleep."

Not Will.

His mind clicked back together, but none of the confusion left him. He was in Tartarus. He...He was safe?

He already knew their names, the voice had told him, but it didn't explain why they were suddenly so caring, it didn't explain why Tartarus had released him so violently and it didn't explain why the voice in his head was uncertain and afraid.

Who are you? he pondered for the hundredth time.

Something was wrong. Something was missing.

Seventeen. The whisper faded in and out, and he fell asleep to the sound of it in his ears, confusion fluttering helplessly in his stomach.

...

Nyx sighed as she sat back, watching the slumbering demigod in front of her; Erebus at her side was silently fuming, mind no doubt in a rage over what had happened.

"Is he blind?" Her husband bit out finally, frustrated. "The kid reeks so heavy of him its practically impossible to miss even if you aren't looking for it." 

"It shouldn't be possible." Nyx said finally, "He's been gone for eons, we watched him fade. If he had even so much as touched the earth after that, we would have sensed it."

And yet, somehow, seventeen years ago, he had touched not only the earth but the demigod now in their care, and they hadn't noticed a thing.

...

Percy pulled himself up, the hot rock under his hands having become numb about half an hour ago. Fuck, he hoped he was making progress because if he went back down, he'd never hear the end of it from Hades in the afterlife.

“Keep climbing” he told himself.

“Cheeseburgers” his stomach, stubbornly replied, growling.

The voices in his head were driving him mad, and his patience was growing thin. Styx, he was already swearing more than he ever had before - if his mom heard she'd be horrified!

“Shut up” he thought sharply at the voices, muffling a slight scream as one of the rocks he grabbed hold of broke away, disintegrating and echoing with a quiet smash when it finally hit the bottom.

“With fries” his stomach complained, and a bead of sweat ran down his cheek.

He was so tired...
...

"Is he okay?" Nyx rubbed a hand down her face as she watched the two children of Gaea pace around the room, "Shouldn't he be awake by now?"

"He's fine." Erebus answered dryly, one leg kicked over the other as he reclined next to the slumbering demigod's bed. "If Tarty stopped being a stubborn bastard he would have been awake days ago." 

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

Ah, Chaos.

Erebus winced, "Give me a head start?" He asked weakly.

Tartarus hovered in the doorway, a dark look on his face, "Five."

"Five?" Iapetus muttered confused.

"Four." The King continued, not breaking eye contact with his brother.

The Primordial of Shadow made a run for it, bolting into the darkness of the room and fleeing as the other counted down the last seconds of his life.

...

Percy woke with a groan, feeling no longer the deep pain of before, but instead the ache of muscles that had been pushed past their limits.

He opened his eyes, half expecting to see a blue sky above him with Clarisse grinning down at him in bragging victory.

He didn't.

Percy forced himself to sit up, looking around the room, before his eyes landed on the whispering forms of Damasen and Iapetus who hadn't yet noticed he was awake.

"What are we going to tell him?" Damasen demanded, "Is he even safe here?"

Iapetus hushed him sharply, "Shhh. I don't know." He said quietly enough Percy had to strain to hear him, "His lack of knowledge should keep him safe, the Sixteenth and Seventeenth haven't been seen since the primordial age, and any record of him  was scrapped."

Percy swallowed, Seventeen. The voice in his head was silent. Always Seventeen, who were they talking about, why was it such a dangerous thing to know. He wanted to demand answers from them, he'd had more than enough of information being kept from him, every time he was left in the dark something happened that left him grasping at straws to keep his sanity together.

He sighed, before groaning, acting like he was waking up, and forcing himself to sit up in the bed, propped up on elbows. He wasn't going to get anywhere by staying stagnant. 

"Percy." Damasen breathed, relief in his voice and he crossed the room to his bedside in a single stride.

"How are you feeling?" He demanded, pressing a hand to his head.

Percy blinked, how was he feeling?

"I..." He blinked, "I feel surprisingly good." He felt surprised at that, the last time he had felt this good was in Camp Jupiter. Fuck, the last time he had slept decently, had been in the safe walls of Camp Jupiter.

"Good." Iapetus spoke warmly, so calm that if Percy hadn't woken earlier he would have believed nothing wrong.

"Where are we?" He asked, choosing to ignore the two's behaviour for now, "How are you?"

"We are fine, and as to where we are, well...." Damasen trailed off looking at the other immortal helplessly for a moment.

Iapetus rose and moved over to the bed where Perseus rubbed at his eyes and winced as he cracked his shoulders.

"We are in the lowest levels of the Pit, in Lord Tartarus' Castle." Perseus froze, that was the last place they needed to be. "Calm child! Do not panic!" The titan continued quickly, cursing himself for not starting with that.

Percy was lost, this unravelled all of the progress they had made so far! All the weeks of climbing through brimstone valleys, dogging monsters, desperately tracking rivers, it was all for nothing! He felt like crying.

Iapetus sat on the bed clearly knowing where his thoughts had gone to, "Fear not, Lady Nyx and Lord Erebus have offered to take us to the doors of Death themselves."

Percy's breathing hitched. HE COULD HAVE LED WITH THAT.

"How long..." he trailed off, "How long have I been asleep? How long have I been in the pit? How long-"

Damasen grabbed his shoulder, a small order to breath being given from the giant.

The titan soothed him, from the other side, "The time difference here is greater, on the surface it has been but 3 days since you fell."

Percy choked, tears in his eyes. "But..." he whispered, "Its been at least a month, if not more!" Percy whispered.

"Not for them," Damasen murmured, giving him a sympathetic look. "Time down here is strange, what's a manner of days up there can be months down here, months above can be decades below."

"We are getting out of here." Iapetus told him firmly, "I would not put an ounce of trust in Tartarus himself, but I would put my life at least in Lady Nyx's hands."

Percy let out a small shaky breath, the way ahead was filled with uncertainty, but the primordials' help would mean they got out of here in time to stop Gaea. Well, when Percy could muster the energy to stand again that is.

"That's good,, I... I trust you. Not them, but you, you always. I would put my life in your hands." he murmured pushing the sheets back and pulling his legs to flip over the side, Iapetus' cool hand grasped his arm and helped him to his feet.

"The fuck am I wearing?...." he questioned. He was in a black shirt that was quite clearly too big for him, a belt was wrapped around his middle and a thin see through black dressing gown was thrown hazardously around his shoulders.

"You." Iapetus announced, "Are currently wearing Lord Tartarus' shirt." He filled the demigod in.

Percy gave him a look in return for it that told him just how rhetorical his former question had been.

"Considering all else was either even large or too small. According to lady Nyx anyway." He muttered distractedly, deciding it was better for his health to continue than stop when Percy shot him a dark glare.

"Milady Nyx brought you a change of clothes." Damasen chuckled, as he held up the robe and shoes that laid on the table.

Fuck no. There was no way, Percy was putting one of those on again, they were too irritating, it was like they were made sorely for the discomfort of the wearer.

"What are the other two piles?" Percy asked, hoping for slightly better news.

"Lord Tartarus and Lord Erebus' clothing. Ironically, for the two of us, but we don't need any replacements, not yet anyway." Damasen pointed to each pile with the corresponding name.

Percy raised a brow, and eyed Damasen's mostly patchwork shirt.

"Feel free to take what you want. Neither of them want the clothes anymore anyway." Damasen continued, giving the demigod an unimpressed look.

Iapetus chuckled, "The toga would be best while your back is still healing, however I dread to think how you would even get it on." He teased.

The son of Poseidon decided against mentioning he'd worn something similar many times before, and knew perfectly how to get it on in all its discomforting, itchy self.

Percy blinked, "ah." He muttered quietly as he eyed the options reluctantly.

The idea of wearing the primordials' clothes was a.. unique one. It would certainly be different, but the idea of it just didn't quite sit right with him, it made his stomach churn with unease.

Damasen shot him a chiding look as he took the glorified dress from the table and moved towards Percy, "C'mon, let's get you dressed." He said.

Percy sighed, eyeing the fabric.

"I can do this myself." He argued weakly, as Damasen pulled him towards a smaller side room.

Let him have some dignity at least.

"With those burns? I doubt it." The giant responded, "Its me, or one of the primordials when they come back."

He gave the ultimatum dryly, and Percy couldn't stop the shudder that ran through him even if he tried.

"Thought so."

Percy mouthed a silent threat at Iapetus over the elder's shoulder, the titan grinning back at him unrepentant.

It was only then that Percy blinked, realising just what the child of Gaea was wearing, and he could quite stop the laugh that poured from his lips. In the end, things could be worse he thought, a toga wasn't the worst option he could have, it wasn't a chiton at least like Iapetus was wearing.