Percy hated his life. Honestly. He'd managed to survive a fall in the Styx, and several fights with gods and Titans alike, and even managed to defeat the Giants with the help of his friends. He'd faced down Tartarus and Gaia themselves, and had helped unite the Greeks and Romans, who had been bitter enemies for millenia. He'd risked so much for his friends, his family, and even people he'd never met before, all so the world could keep on spinning. So that mortals could live their lives without the fear that all demigods carried.
He had an amazing girlfriend, and a multitude of amazing family members; blood and otherwise. Great friends and even great enemies. He was a hero of Olympus, a leader of demigods, and a champion of mortality. He'd turned down immortality because he couldn't bear the idea of being without them, of being without her: Annabeth Chase. What he wouldn't give to have her back in his arms; to feel her skin, hear her voice, look into her eyes. What he couldn't give to go back and change everything.
Instead, he was stuck here, alone, dying from wounds he couldn't heal. Annabeth was gods only knew where, and Merion...Merion was with her, so at least she would be safe. Percy had forced them to go on ahead, erecting a wall of solid water between himself and his girlfriend. He'd heard Merion encouraging her to follow him, had sensed when she was no longer in harm's way. Percy had turned his attention back to the monster horde that had been plaguing them since leaving Merion's pasture in Northern California.
Merion, a son of Bob - Iapetus, and a mortal. The only demititan Percy had ever met. The dude had serious powers; healing, some magic, vast amounts of stamina, and he had managed to create wards strong enough to deter monsters from finding him. He was powerful, and had known Annabeth and Percy by their full names, claiming to have had a vision the night before about their visit.
A poisonous claw swiping at his face had brough him out of his daze, and he'd started fighting and slashing, rolling on and under his enemies as he attempted to slow them down; to give Annabeth and Merion the chance to get far enough away. He had cared little for the injuries he sustained while fighting, in fact all he had cared about was that he'd been proving to be a perfect distraction. He never saw the laistrygonian's club swing, never felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. All he felt was a crushing blow to the back of his head, and then he'd passed out. Amazingly, the monsters hadn't gone any further on trying to kill him; they'd continued on after his wall of water crashed down.
The knowledge that he wasn't even their main target is what made his situation all the more disheartening. No ambrosia in his pocket anymore, that had been used up to heal Annabeth and himself on the journey across the country. He reached into his pocket just to make sure, and found the empty Ziploc bag right where he'd left it. His body was getting weaker, and even though he kept crawling, kept moving, he knew he'd never get back up.
Brought down by a horde of monsters and being killed like that was one thing, but dying after being left behind because he wasn't even their target was another. Dying alone and from something so miniscule compared to facing primordials and gods and everything in between was something he'd never considered. His thoughts drifted back to Annabeth, and he thought of all the things he'd ever wanted to say, all the things he'd felt but never shared. He'd wanted to try and put into words how much she meant to him, what he'd do for her, and most of all, tell her that she was the one who had kept him grounded during his dip in the Styx. He knew she already knew, but telling her was something entirely different. Actually saying the words.
And Merion...Merion was someone Percy had wanted to sit down and have a long chat with; explain in full what happened to Iapetus, how exactly he'd died. What he'd died for. How it was Percy's fault that Merion's father was dead. The man had been so kind and helpful to the two people he should have hated the most. But in response to Percy's curiousity, Merion had merely shrugged, "Why would I waste time being angry at people I've never met? Hatred is a useless emotion, an all consuming state of mind that I truly see no point in."
He'd treated Percy and Annabeth like old friends. Percy rolled onto his back and stared up at the sky, breathing raggedly and shallowly. His eyesight was darkening, and he knew what would come next. He'd been around death for so long that he knew, in his heart he knew what it felt like. With one giant heave of breath, Percy closed his eyes, and let go; let go of the pain, let go of the suffering, and let go of his mortal coil. But in that instant, the instant Perseus Jackson accepted death, Percy's eyes shot wide open and he was looking up at a brillaint white cathedral, with white light splaying in from the many open archways. A hand had clapped onto his shoulder.
Percy looked straight into the face of Luke Castellan, "Come on, Jackson. Don't give up that easily. You got more fight in you than that, kid."
"Yeah, don't let one little fight knock you down. You've got to keep going, Percy," the soft voice of Silena Beauregard spoke up.
"Honestly, Percy, I thought you had more in you than that. You are a demigod worthy of the constellations, Percy. A hero more valiant and strong than Hercules ever was," Zoe Nightshade smiled at him, and winked, stars glittering in her dark hair and in her eyes.
"I know it's going to be hard, Percy, but think of those two people relying on you. Think of Annabeth. She and Merion need you, now more than ever. You have to get to Camp Jupiter, Percy. Get your closure. Like I got mine," Bianca di Angelo smiled, looking refreshed and rejuvenated in her brand new body.
"I know good craftsmanship, Perce, and you are definitely one of the finest demigods out there. You've got heart and spirit. You've created water from frickin' seashells, man. You've caused an earthquake! You made water appear out of nowhere! Percy, just think of all you can do. Look deep inside yourself, and make that water pop out of the ground. Make it listen to you. You are the son of Poseidon, Lord of the Ocean. Water is your birthright; your element," Beckendorf was crouched beside Luke, and on a silent nod the two older demigods lifted Percy to his feet, and his vision ended.
Percy stared down at the small spring at his feet, watched the water run up his leg and rejuvenate him. He closed his eyes and let it work its magic. He always felt alive when he was around water. The son of Poseidon roused himself from his stupor and raised Riptide, running after the monsters and Merion and Annabeth most of all. He'd almost given in.
Looking back, he could've sworn he'd seen all of the demigods he'd ever known, everyone he'd ever lost, standing in one determined line behind him, nodding approval and urging him on. He blinked and they were gone.
