I'll Follow You Into The Dark - a PJO fanfic
Pairing: Alabaster x Male OC
After the attack on the Princess Andromeda the Son of Spring wakes up in the enemy's territory, scarred, alone and too late. The war ended, and Malachite slept through the whole thing.
No one will tell him where Alabaster is, or even if he's alive. It's up to Mal to track down the last person who cares about him.
This is OC centric!! Malachite is my oc that my friends kind of fell in love with, so this for everyone in the Lily's Garden server.
Malachite is the demigod son of Persephone.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapter 1: Back To The Big House
“Percy- He’s here! He told me to get off now if I want to live! Tell the others!”
Dread filled Malachite’s stomach. FUCK! Percy Jackson is here. The Son of Persephone swallowed the lump in his throat and went to go find Alabaster. His red tear dropped earring dangling back in forth as he moved.
While running Malachite tried to think of a way to get off the Princess Andromeda. Okay, let's think, it's August, so plant powers only. Can I use seaweed to...to do what? Goddammit! I hate water. He grimaced.
Damnit. Damnit, dammit, dammit! Malachite had no way to get out of the ship. No way, using his spring powers, that is.
Malachite glanced at his left arm, dark shadowy scarring curling around his arm. The last time he had used his underworld powers during spring or summer, he passed out for a week, and his tanned skin of his arm was now a purplish.
Alabaster was drawing runes on the sleeves of a white collared shirt he was wearing underneath his green sweater vest. When Malachite burst in, and his hand slipped, causing him to mess up one of the runes.
“Al! He’s here!” Malachite gasped out.
Alabaster’s bright green eyes widened, and his lips moved but Mal couldn’t hear him. Not over the deep rumbling in the ship. The ground started to shake, and panic overtook Malachite.
The ship burst into green flames around him, one explosion almost hit Malachite’s face, causing them both to sway on their feet.
As he sunk into the shadows like quick sand, he saw Alabaster reach out to him. "Malachite!" Alabaster screamed, his desperate look in his eyes and the way his freckled face paled at the sight of his closest companion being swallowed by darkness, literally.
“Alabaster!” Malachite tried to reach out, his fingers almost grabbing Alabaster’s before it swallowed him whole and he fell into pitch darkness.
Malachite opened his eyes, well only one of them, as he couldn’t feel the right side of his face. He took a loud, sharp breath, and he placed his hand on his chest, imagining he was holding his heart in his hand and that he was slowing it down manually.
Mal touched the right side of his face, and felt bandages wrapped around his head. Now we match, Ethan, wait. Where…am I?
The son of spring sat up, looking around the room. The room was familiar to him, and it made him want to disappear again. Malachite was in Camp Half Blood’s infirmary.
He had his head in his hands when he heard the door open. A young blond kid entered the room, sniffling, “Oh, you’re awake.” The kid looked tired, his eyes were puffy and red, most likely from crying. Was this kid an assistant or something? Malachite thought.
“Are you my doctor? How old are you?”
“My name is Will, I’m a healer, not a doctor, and I’m 13. How are you feeling? Any pain?” The kid grabs a clipboard, flipping through papers.
“No,” Malachite sighed and stood up, wobbling as he did. He leaned on the wall, shaking his legs back awake.
“You should lay back down.”
“Maybe you should lay down, kid.”
Will's eye twitched, might’ve been because he was tired, or simply annoyed, “So, nothing hurts? You were asleep for a week.”
“A week? Well, damn, my face feels numb if anything,” Malachite sat back down.
“The ambrosia in your system is still working to heal the right side of your face, but I’m afraid there might be scarring. Green fire is an extremely dangerous substance that not even ambrosia can heal it's effects entirely."
“Alright well, thank you,” Mal spoke quietly, laying back down, “Can I leave?”
“Er...well,” The kid flipped through papers on his clipboard, though Mal was starting to doubt if he was actually reading the thing.
A voice said behind him, as Chiron stepped into the infirmary, “It’s alright, Will, I’ll take over from here.”
Malachite bolted up, backing away, trying to merge himself with the wall as dread coiled around him in a way that made him nauseous. It was then that he was claimed, although Malachite didn’t need a floating pomegranate above his head to know that Persephone was his godly parent.
“Welcome back, Mal,” Chiron smiled with kindness that Malachite did not deserve. “We should talk.”
Chiron and Malachite walked around the camp grounds as they talked. Malachite had his arms crossed over his chest, the bandages still wrapped across his head, “I'm surprised you remember my name.”
Chiron raised an eyebrow, glancing at Malachite for a moment before looking ahead, “Of course I do, Malachite. I remember all of the demigods I helped train.”
“You didn't really train me, though,” Malachite sighed, his shoulders sagging, “Luke did.”
Chiron stopped and turned to Mal, placing his hand on Malachite’s shoulder, “Right, about that. Mal, you should know that the war has ended, Luke…he sacrificed himself to destroy Kronos.”
Malachite stepped back from the centaur’s hold. Why is being kind to me? Why does he make it so hard for me to hate him? “I…It's for the best, I guess.” Malachite gulped down his nerves, and ask the question that kept plaguing his mind, “Do you know what happened to Alabaster?”
Chiron tensed slightly, looking around nervously at the newly built Hecate cabin, “I can't say I recall. Now, you're going to have to stay in the Hermes cabin just a little while longer. Meanwhile, we built a cabin for you. Why don't you help tend to the strawberry field?” Chiron smiled a tight-lip smile before trotting back to the big house.
Malachite had so many questions, most about the whereabouts of Alabaster. He turned to stare at the strawberry fields like it personally wronged him, and kicked a rock that laid by the fields, it almost hit a satyr in the forehead. He didn't notice, otherwise he would've apologized, too lost in thought.
When Malachite’s face had healed as much as it could, Will Solace, the now sole healer in Camp Half-Blood, helped him take off the wrappings. Once they were off, Will held a mirror to his face. "I tried my best, but like I said, I can't stop the scarring."
His olive green eyes started inspecting the scar. It left his skin pink and raw, with a large purplish scar going across from his hairline to his jaw, although his dark brown hair covered most of it. "It looks like a supernova exploded on the left side of my face...cool."
Malachite spent the remainder of the summer by the strawberry fields, helping them grow and "reconnect" with nature by trying to bury himself in the ground. The satyrs and Demeter's kids would stare warily at him with confusion and concern.
Just a little while longer. Chiron's words rang in Malachite’s head. I wonder what "a little while longer" meant to an immortal being who's been around for centuries. A week? A month? A year? 5 years?
With other cabins being built, with those cabins having more than one soon-to-be-occupants. Persephone's cabin wasn’t forefront of their list, who only had Mal. Afterall, "She was just a flower goddess."
The last day of summer, Malachite had dreamt of a snow fallen forest, the trees and plant life were dead, covered with a blanket of snow. Fog moved in, swirling around, causing a mini blizzard before the fog morphed into a woman wearing a white dress, and a white veil that had emboldened flowers, and obscured her face.
Once the woman’s feet touched the snow, it melted, and under the dress of the woman, there was fresh grass and flowers sprouted. They reached out and wrapped around Malachite’s legs and arms, causing him to kneel.
The glint of gold in her eyes when she turned around told Malachite everything, “Mother,” he whispered breathlessly.
Persephone hadn’t visited Mal in ages. He hadn’t seen her in person since he was 7, and hadn’t seen her in his dreams since he turned 13, which was around the time he joined the Titans’ Army. So this surprise visit meant only one thing, and it terrified Malachite to his core.
Some people might be wondering what’s so terrifying about a flower goddess? Well, they don’t call Persephone the Dread Queen for nothing.
“Your participation in this war has disappointed me greatly,” Her voice echoed, as if she were using the voices of the dead to speak.
Shivers ran down Malachite’s back, and he felt so cold. So alone. “Mom, I-“ The grass squeezed him, causing him to stop talking.
“My child, you have embarrassed me. I love you so, but I cannot bear seeing you betray me so. Be thankful I saved you and put you to sleep.” The Dread Queen grabbed Malachite’s chin, tilting his head to face her. Her veil shadowed her face, and her son could not find any kindness in her eyes. Love? Yes, but forgiveness? There was only hurt and anger. "I will no longer protect you, you're on your own, alone.”
Mal’s eyes widened, and he felt flowers sprout all over his body, covering every inch until they invaded his lungs, causing him to cough up flowers. He stared at a flower covered in spit and blood until he fell onto his side and his vision started to blur.
The son of Dread Persephone woke up in a cold sweat on the floor of the Hermes cabin, shaking and crying, grabbing at his arms, hugging himself as the night wind howled outside the window.