CHAPTER SIX / VOL. I, SURVIVAL IS A TALENT

MURPHY'S LAW STATES: anything that can go wrong will go wrong.

That's how Will finds herself falling from the frigid skies with the wind at her heels as she plummets towards the ground like an all too palpable shooting star. Another law she supposes; what goes up must come down. But Will isn't bound by laws of any manifestation or the binding ties of fate. Ever her father's daughter, Will Capote is too stuck on anarchy and the politics of bloodshed to concern herself with the simple nature of aligned stars. The only kind of fate that she believed in was Nemesis; a righting of wrongs or at least some kind of chaos that wasn't without its reasoning, unlike Ares whose violence was unwarranted and hungry in the depraved way of a wild animal.

She should have known that something like this would happen. Relying on anyone else would always lead to disaster or something scarily close. Will would normally never have made such a simple mistake as falling asleep; instead, opting to take the night watch, even if she had bags under her eyes and her bones ached in the morning as a consequence. At least they'd be alive. But she let her guard down which proves to be fatal. The bulk of it is that Will can't keep reliving the past; it's draining and painful and increasingly harder for her to escape the amber of each moment. That's why Will couldn't keep her eyes open that night. That's why she wakes to falling and thinks it must be well deserved.

Oh well, Will thinks, spreading her limbs to maximize the surface area. Too little, too late.

The wind beating against her exposed skin is an unwelcome feeling, violent and piercing as it strikes at her soft cheeks, threatening to rip the flesh from her bones. Next to her, Piper is falling with a look of fear across her gentle face that's unfamiliar to Will. The daughter of Aphrodite's arms are clutched against her chest and her expression turns to a grimace as the wind stings her eyes. A figure shoots past the two, which Will easily identifies as Leo, flailing his arms and screaming so much that his lungs should shatter. She would roll her eyes if she could, but she can't because they're too dry and it feels like they might burst from the force of the wind. So instead she just watches the scene play out, far too at ease for someone who's falling to their demise.

Somewhere above her, Jason shouts out, "Piper, level out! Extend your arms and legs!"

Piper listens, spreading out her body which allows her to slow down, leveling out by Will who spares a glance upwards to where she heard Jason's shout. She sees him just as they collide—his arm linking around her torso and pulling her back against his chest in an unrefined way. Instinct tells her to carve into his flesh, inevitably removing his arm from her body and letting her plummet to her death. Fortunately she fights the urge, thinking about how disappointed Annabeth would be. It's strange how the daughter of Athena had become such a vital part of her life and now that she wasn't there, she still managed to be Will's impulse control, but more importantly she was always on her mind. Will understands—she misses her. It's such a foreign concept to her that she almost overlooks the feeling. But it's there and it burns, and even as Will is falling to her death she still can't help but feel it.

"We have to get Leo!" Piper shouts over the wind, clinging to Jason's side as if her life depends on it, which admittedly it does.

"It's gonna get rough," Jason warns, trying to control the winds that thrash against his hold. "Hold on!"

They start to sink faster, getting closer and closer to Leo's thrashing body. He doesn't bother with any kind of composure, which isn't unexpected if you think about it. Will's reaction is the most peculiar because it consists of nothing. She's unnaturally relaxed as she falls to her death, but maybe that's because she doesn't fear it—not for the promise of the Elysian Fields but because she thinks that death might be well deserved. She's seen plenty of deaths—graceless and haunting as they may be—but sometimes death is better than the suffering. If her mother were here she would shudder, muttering under her breath about death and bad omens and all things in between. But her mother is dead so clearly superstitions didn't do much for her.

They slam into Leo without warning, hearing the boy cursing and flailing his arms in panic. "Stop fighting!" Jason shouts. "It's me!"

"My dragon!" Leo yells back, still struggling against Jason's grip. He doesn't bother masking his desperation. "You gotta save Festus!"

Will's eyes narrow in on a large metallic sheen in the distance that disappears behind a warehouse, leaving a fiery plume in the cold air. "Festus!" Leo cries out, voice riddled with pain.

But there's no time to mourn the loss. Jason's face is strained as he struggles to keep them all from falling to their premature deaths. Will is already looking to the ground for signs of danger as they tumble downwards, trying to examine their surroundings as they spiral. That's when Jason finally drains, groaning out, "I can't—"

And they drop like stones.

Will can feel the impact of the rubble as they fall through the roof of an abandoned building, using the force of the collision to propel herself away from the others and roll in a somersault, scraping her forearms against the pavement as she hits a wall that probably leaves a bruise on her side but she's used to the pain by now. She grunts at the force, shoving herself up from the ground and examining the fresh wounds. There's a sickening crack from somewhere in the warehouse that Will knows belongs to someone in her company, but there are more important matters at hand. She barely registers Leo and Jason's voices calling out to both girls.

"Here," Piper's voice calls out, barely loud enough to be heard and heavy with fatigue.

Jason still shouts, "Will? Where are you?"

Her voice is scratchy and foreign, haunting and ghost-like, but she manages. "I'm fine. I'm gonna check the perimeter."

When he calls out to her again in disagreement, she's already gone. He's met with silence so loud it's deafening.

AROUND THE WAREHOUSE IS FALLING FENCES AND BROKEN DOWN CARS, old relics of life that used to exist. There's snow covering the ground and the cold nips at her exposed skin, a feeling that holds nothing but bitterness and bad omens. Pulling her dagger from its sheath, Will steps through the snow, keeping her back against the wall and her eyes trained on the dark silhouettes cast by the waning moonlight. Something about the stillness of the air unnerves her. The silence fills her with dread and every part of her begs for bloodshed. The ugly parts of her always come alive in the silence because something has to fill the void. This moment is no exception.

Her mother never liked the silence either. Though Will sometimes strains to remember the woman, one thing she's always been certain of is that her mother knew how to fill the void. Will doesn't have to think hard to see the image come to life. Their apartment that was barely big enough for the two of them is lit with candles after the lights go out, basking in a warm glow that casts shadows on the walls and turns everything golden just for a moment. Her mother grabs a record from the shelf with a familiar smile, watching her daughter's eyes light up with recognition. It was simple then, dancing to the soft sounds of Santo & Johnny and thinking that it would be this way forever. She would reflect on how calloused her mother's hands were from working in fields and think that one day she too would have marks to show her strength, signs of her own existence. Will finds comfort in the memory but nothing more. It's not hers to have anymore. She's come to terms with that.

When Will circles back around the building, leaving the image of a past life to unravel behind her, she sees a small figure emerge from the same exit she used before. Slowly and silently, Will approaches them from behind, knocking the flashlight from their hands in a flurry as she lunges, knife pressed against their throat from behind as she hears a familiar voice cry out, "What did I do?"

She rolls her eyes, pushing the boy away impatiently. Her interest dwindles rapidly.

"What'd you do that for?" he asks, rubbing at his neck that still remembers the coolness of the blade and picking up his abandoned flashlight. He shines the light at Will, seeing the gleam of her dagger before taking a wary step back.

She shrugs. "It's what I was trained to do."

"Jesus, does Camp Half-Blood train assassins?" Leo scoffs before narrowing his eyes at her. "Did you not know it was me?"

"I did," Will admits with a small smile toying on her lips. Leo blanches. "Now get that light out of my eyes before I decapitate you."

Leo takes another step back, lowering the flashlight obediently. "Please don't. Piper already messed up her ankle in there. I don't think we need another injury."

"That wouldn't be an injury," Will disagrees. "It'd be a death. You know," she hums in amusement. "I figured that was you when I heard it."

"Heard what?"

"The bone snapping," Will says with a shrug, watching his face turn from confusion to slight horror.

"You knew that someone was hurt and you still left?"

He's trying to remember her like she was earlier—vulnerable and so very human, looking mournful over her mother and trying to stop her hands from shaking, but he can't. All he sees before him is the hardened, stoic monster that lives inside her. Maybe she should have been ashamed for her apathy and self-preservation, but she was not raised to feel remorse. What he doesn't understand is that she is a warrior, so he thinks to himself: a monster after all.

"It already happened. We were still in danger, so I prioritized. I've checked the perimeter and there doesn't seem to be any threats. So you're welcome, Valdez," Will says condescendingly, sending the boy a spiteful glare before she slips back into the building, leaving Leo out in the cold. She doesn't pretend to be a good person, but she refuses to be looked at like she's something less than human. It's not as if she hasn't heard it before, hasn't seen the look of horror that crosses people's faces when they see what she's capable of. But for some reason it matters now. Maybe it's because she knows enough about Leo to say that he might be monstrous too. Or maybe it's because the human part of her wants to say: no, not a monster at all.

When she finally finds Jason and Piper, she's still filled with acidity from her encounter with Leo. She can't help that her rancor carries.

"Am I interrupting something?" Will asks as she comes upon the two speaking quietly. The truth is that she has interrupted something and she's aware of the fact. Their voices had traveled in the large warehouse, echoing off of the walls and allowing for her to hear their conversation as if it were being whispered in her own ear. She should feel guilty for intruding on a very private conversation, but Will's never had a moral backbone so the thought doesn't bother her.

Jason stands up abruptly when he hears her, shaking his head in reply.

"No."

Will shrugs off his strange behavior, opting to lean against the railing that could've given out at any moment. Everything in the building withered with decay, even the glaring red eye on the wall with chipping paint and signs of ruination. She's filled with dread for reasons unknown to her, thinking that maybe she's still sleep deprived or missing home, or rather the people she associates with the word.

"Did you find anything outside?"

"No," Will says, shaking herself from her thoughts. "Nothing. I did run into Valdez though. Almost slit his throat."

Piper and Jason share a look of shock as Piper asks, "But you didn't slit his throat... right?"

"Not this time," she responds with disinterest. "What were you guys talking about before?"

"Uh... what were you saying before—" Jason is cut off by the sound of metal slamming, vibrating through the warehouse and sending chills down their spines. Jason flips his coin, catching it midair and holding the gleaming sword as he peers over the railing. Will's own dagger is gripped in her steady hand. "Leo?" he calls. No one answers. "I don't like this."

"He could be in trouble," Piper says. "Go check."

"I can't leave you alone."

Will rolls her eyes. "I'll go. You two stay here."

"You're not going," Jason says forcefully, taking a step forward. It leaves a bitter taste in Will's mouth. The way she sees it, Jason thinks he's a god, as if his word is law and Will would bend to his resolve. It's not the truth at all. If she'd listened closer she might hear the fear laced in his voice, worry coating each word because for some reason he's formed an attachment to a girl that cares nothing for him. He should know this, but part of him holds hope. A silly notion really.

Will scoffs, finding amusement in Jason's insistence. "And why's that? Out of all of us here, I have the most experience in combat. You don't even remember anything about your past life," she says rather coldly. "You're out of your league, Flyboy."

"Flyboy?" Jason inquires with a small grin. His heart leaps at the name though he'd never say. Will simply narrows her eyes in response.

"You guys should both go. I'll be fine." Piper interrupts, wanting to bring this conversation end; something about this interaction makes her heart ache. She draws Katoptris, trying to look as brave as her companions, but the fear and hesitance was practically seeping from her. "Anyone gets close, I'll skewer them."

Will already starts to walk away, having no qualms with this idea, when Jason grabs her arm and pulls her to a stop. "I'm not letting you go. Someone should stay with Piper. She's in no condition to be left alone."

I'm not letting you.

The words strike a chord with her, more anger than anything flooding her veins. Her hands feel like they're on fire. It's too reminiscent of that night, but at this point she can't care. She wants to carve through flesh, set fire to cities and watch them burn. But she doesn't. She thinks of her mother and the sound of soft melodies that carry so much sentiment. She thinks of the way it made her feel, wanting to close her eyes and let the gentle melody embrace her, but then she remembers she doesn't deserve comfort.

Yes, a monster after all.

Crossing her arms, Will shakes Jason's hand from her arm. Any amusement from before dissolves and all that is left is spite. "I don't take orders from anyone. Especially not from a golden boy with a hero complex."

Jason doesn't back down either. "I'm not going to argue with you, Will. I'd feel a lot better knowing that you were here to protect Piper, okay? That's all. I know you're a lot more experienced than me at combat—probably at everything," Jason reassures, trying not to provoke her any more. "That's why I think it'd be best if you stayed. Can you just do this one thing for me?"

"No," Will says sharply. Jason sighs, rubbing his temple while Piper looks like she'd rather be anywhere else. "I'll stay, but it's not for you." She looks to Piper's messed up foot and for a second the other two think they see a flicker of sympathy. But they convince themselves that their minds are playing tricks on them because the next moment it is gone and all that's left is malice.

Jason hesitates to leave, still wary about separating from the group. "I'll leave you the pack. If I'm not back in five minutes—"

"Panic?" Piper suggests.

He smiles at her and speaks like you would to an old friend. "Glad you're feeling like yourself again." Even though he's only known her for a few days, he still cares for her. That's how Will knows he's good—too soft, too willing to love.

Piper shakes her head but her heart doesn't lurch in her chest like it should. "Get going before I skewer you."

Jason chuckles, sending one last fleeting look before disappearing down the stairs, leaving the two girls in a silence that engulfs them. Piper is growing more and more panicked as the seconds pass by, playing out all the worst scenarios in her head. Her breathing is labored and her eyes dart around, peering into the shadows like anything might live in them. Will is also looking out into the darkness with Éleos gripped firmly in hand when she finally gets tired of hearing Piper's harsh breathing.

"Stop panicking," Will growls, growing increasingly vexed by Piper's useless worrying. After all, what good would it do them? "He's probably fine. And if not, then it's not much of a loss, is it?"

"You really don't like him?"

"I really don't like any of you," Will states, sending the girl a pointed look. The message is clear: Will Capote is nothing short of monstrous. Their lives mean nothing to her.

Yes, a monster after all.

By now Piper's breathing has leveled out. The sound of Will's cold, biting voice brings comfort to the daughter of Aphrodite, though maybe it shouldn't. "Why don't you like him?" Piper asks before she can stop the words from slipping past her lips. She grimaces at Will's expression but knows it's too late to take it back despite how much she wishes she could. "Jason, I mean... girls are supposed to like guys like him. He's handsome," she says though her mind seems to be elsewhere. The words don't feel like her. "And more importantly, he's good. But you don't like him. Why not?"

"Why don't you?" Will counters.

Piper looks taken aback, wide eyes and parted lips. "No, I-I do. He's my boyfriend... I think. Of course I like him."

"Yeah," Will scoffs. "Sure sounds like it."

"I—" Piper begins. What she means to say is, I do. But the words are insincere and fall flat on her tongue. Instead she says: "I don't know. I'm supposed to like him. And how could I not? He's good—like really good. He's my friend..."

"Thought he was your boyfriend," Will muses, amusement lacing her voice.

"I thought so too... but now... it just doesn't feel right."

          Will raises a brow. "What happened to trying to salvage it?"

          "I've been trying," Piper admits. "But I don't think I can. How can you save something that was never there to begin with?"

          Will regards her curiously, something akin to respect flourishing for the girl. She thinks that maybe there's more to Piper than she originally thought. "You can't. It's a dead loss."

          "Yeah," she mutters, though her mind is still filled with turmoil.

          "You're better off without him anyways."

          "Really," Piper asks hopefully. She looks at Will like she's her saving grace—but she's not that. Not in the slightest.

          "People will only disappoint you."

          "Oh..." And then she asks: "Who's disappointed you?"

Will doesn't answer, but it still hangs heavy in the air.

Who hasn't?

Piper is about to ask another question to fill the silence, thinking that Will is more grief-stricken than she lets on when a loud bang echos through the warehouse once more. It silences her as she shakily shuffles backwards, glancing at Will to see her reaction. Everything was dependent on her. Will tucks Éleos away, unsheathing her sword and whipping around to face the darkness like it's a dragon to slay and she is the hero with a blade in her hand, ready to cut something down to size. Her fingers tingle with anticipation, every part of her lighting up with adrenaline. Like she's been training her whole life, Will lowers her stance, brandishing her sword in front of her. She feels it rushing beneath her skin—the excitement, the familiar feeling of wanting to tear through flesh and bones—to hear the sound of metal against metal, and feel the warm blood trickling down.

          For a moment nothing comes. Will is still crouched down, waiting for something to carve into, back facing Piper as she stares into the darkness that stares right back at her. There's a crinkling behind her, but she doesn't turn around to see what the cause of the noise is. Instead she asks, "What the fuck are you doing?"

          The noise stops abruptly and Piper's voice answers hesitantly. "This ambrosia stuff is supposed to heal you... right? I was just thinking that it might make my ankle heal faster."

          "If you eat too much ambrosia you'll burn up. If that's a risk you're willing to take then go for it," Will says albeit apathetically.

          Piper thinks for a split second before shoving a whole square of ambrosia into her mouth, barely savoring the taste before swallowing it. As she chews she asks, "What do you think that noise was?"

          Will shrugs, though her shoulders are tense and she's eager for carnage. "Could be nothing. How's your leg doing? You won't be much help in a fight if you can't even walk."

          "Why would we need to fight? I thought you said it was nothing."

          "How's your leg," Will says sharply.

          "I think it's healed," Piper mumbles, but doesn't dwell too much on it. The noise and the silence that followed unnerve her, and Will's tense stance and acidic words certainly don't help. She cuts through the splint and stands shakily behind Will. Even then, Will can tell she's dead weight.

The sound of heavy footsteps carry up the stairs, echoing through the abandoned warehouse in a way that makes Will's fingers prick with anticipation. They're too loud, she thinks—too heavy. She waits, but Piper can't understand how the girl isn't racked with nerves. Her own hands shake as they grip her dagger, eyes squinting to see in the pitch black. Normal people know fear, but not Will Capote.

Piper can't take it anymore and calls out, "Jason?"

Will sends her a withering look and a firm shake of her head that only leaves Piper more confused.

          "Yeah," his voice answers from the shadows. "On my way up."

There's more footsteps, too heavy to be Jason's. Every instinct Will has says that this is a foe not friend—though bitterly, she thinks that according to Chiron she doesn't know the difference. These are the things that Will notices: firstly, the footsteps. Heavy and loud, unlike any humans at all. They drag and pound against the ground like every step is filled with ire. Secondly, the pungent smell that wafts up the stairs. There's something sulfuric in the air that burns the inside of Will's nostrils, making her senses go haywire as she racks her brain for the source. And lastly, his voice. It sounds just like him, soothing and low like rain in the afternoon, but there's a dullness to it now. Hollow and monotonous in ways that Jason's voice never is. She doesn't think about how she knows this, but her instincts have never led her astray. Her gut wrenches.

Far too late she realizes what they've just walked into. Will recalls learning about a creature that excels at voice mimicry. Ugly creatures, big and brutish, that feast on the flesh of demigods. But of course, the only Cyclops she actually knew, Tyson, was a bit dull and too soft to be anything threatening. Percy's brother is nothing like these snarling, godless monsters who will tear them to pieces, ripping through skin and bone like it's nothing. By the time this revelation comes it's too late.

          "It's okay," Jason's voice promises and from the darkness a toothy grin emerges with jagged, yellow teeth bared and skin like hardened stone. There's a single crimson eye at the center of its forehead that confirms Will's theory. Too little, too late. "It's fine," the Cyclops says, in a near perfect imitation of Jason's voice. "You're just in time for dinner."

Annabeth would surely chastise her for her foolishness, going off on a tangent about Will not paying attention enough during class and putting her life at risk as a result—which, yes, is true—but she'd still roll her eyes at the blonde and drone out her lecture about responsibility and not being foolhardy. Will wishes that she were here now to be her impulse control but she isn't. It's just Will and Piper and the monster that stands before them. Piper's hand clutches Will's arm in fear, fingers digging into her flesh subconsciously, though Will doesn't pay it any mind. She's too focused on the single eye that watches them hungrily, glowing bright like a burning fire.

The Cyclops takes another step closer—a wicked smile crossing his face as he sees Piper grimace. She's afraid and not even Will's fearlessness can comfort her. In a moment, Will's arm is ripped from Piper's grasp and the girl is charging at the monster with her her blade at the ready. She's not thinking straight, not really—and she's not being clever like Annabeth or biding her time like Sherman. Instead, she's like her father, not thinking and simply diving into battle headfirst because drawing blood is always the goal and all else is lost. She swipes at the Cyclops who awaits her attack, finding more amusement than anything at what he considers a feeble attempt. Her rashness works against her as he swats at her with an arm like stone, sending her tumbling to the ground. Will can already feel the bruises starting to form and curses herself for her haste. But survival has always come first.

Piper pales at the sight as the monster approaches her, towering over her and looking daunting with his gnarled face and sharp teeth. Fortunately, Will pushes herself up from the ground, not bothering with the dirt that coats her clothes and instead making her way back to the Cyclops who quickly turns to her, making a grab at her sword just as she swings it. She's too fast for him but he's strong—too strong even. Still, Will pushes through the pain and ducks as a massive fist punctures the air. His strength is unnatural even for a monster. Something in the air is unsettling—a dark force that festers.

          It doesn't matter though. Will gets the upper hand and Piper watches with hope and worry, along with guilt because she can't find it in herself to be brave. Will is just about to charge him again, delivering the final blow and sending him straight to Tartarus, when the cyclops shouts, "Torque!" His voice echoes loudly throughout the building and another noise sounds from somewhere below them.

Will glances at to the Cyclops who now looks smug, and then to Piper who is on the other side of the catwalk, looking at Will with fear. She knows when she can't win. It's clear that the monster is not alone and whoever Torque was would be here any minute. She shouldn't be so afraid but something raw and primal tugs at her gut. Something dark is stirring. Now Will's no fool, but she's no hero either. She's not Jason. She isn't self-sacrificing and heroic, willing to put her life on the line for people she doesn't know and doesn't care for. They're expendable. But most importantly, she's being realistic. Piper's dead weight. There's no way both of them are getting out alive, and even so, maybe Will can finally return to Camp Half-Blood and leave her companions behind with only hazy fever dreams for memories. The stairs are right behind Will and as she glances at them, Piper follows her gaze, heart sinking as she finally understands. She won't lie to save face—bottom line is Will isn't a good person. She won't pretend to be, not even for the sake of Piper whose eyes are pleading. Will looks at her one last time, but in that moment she feels no remorse, just self-preservation that always wins in the end. Maybe she is afraid to die.

Worse than a monster—a coward.

note: haha not everyone thinking will is a horrible person except for jason who kind of thinks the world of her

i mean will knows when she's done wrong but she just don't care... so this meme kind of doesn't work but also it does

also yes will 100% did abandon piper to be eaten by a cyclops... oops?