The Hands of Hell

The many hands reaching and grabbing in an attempt to pull their beloved back to the Underworld, but lo, he will not go.

He reaches and struggles with the ground above him. The rocks slip from his fingers, only the roots remain.

A comforting hand grasps his wrist, helping to pull him from the bowels of the Earth.

Oh, what a wonder the light of the sun is. Shining, beating down on his albino white back.

A cover is thrown across him and he is swathed in the brown scratchy fabric like a new-born child.

His weak frame is carried bridal style while the strength of his spirit shines from his eyes and through his smile.

For two weeks he is cared for and nursed back to health. His body, so broken, he repays the help with words and stories.

The children fawn over him and are kept busy by him so their mothers may do their work in peace.

One woman in particular pays him extra attention. She is special; he can see her halo glow. At first he fears she has been sent to drag him back but she says "no".

She is his guardian angel and lo, she will not let him go. For worshipping at his feet she has been cast out of heaven.

As soon as he is strong enough the two outcasts, runaways, take off on their own journey.

They fight those that come after them, holding onto each other through everything.

They cling like iron, unbendable and unbreakable.

Their love is as old and timeless as the sea. Their time is finally coming. They can feel the wrath of both worlds pulling and dragging them apart.

Though they are outcasts, their love is forbidden and so their masters hunt them down.

A/N ok, so just to let you know this story was originally just some random thought written down on notebook paper in the middle of one of my classes. It was not until I re-read it while writing it in my journal that I realized it could apply to so many characters. I'm going to say that it is for Nico and Thalia but it could just as easily apply to Percy and Annabeth.