Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Percy Jackson cast or plot. That's why I write fanfiction and not novels; but I'm getting there…

Direct quotes taken from pages 11, 26, and 27 of The Last Olympian.

This story was inspired while I was bored and needed something to do. My cousin suggested this evil little machination, and instantly my boredom was gone. Nothing like killing a character to chase away brain dust.

I crawled on the wet sand to the body of an old friend. It wasn't fair. He wasn't supposed to be there. Nothing had gone right, not when you compared the cost to the outcome. Two lives lost. Two. Beckendorf and I had ridden Blackjack to the Princess Andromeda, praying to every god that we'd make it back alive, but now I'd lost two friends, and it hadn't been worth it at all.

I sat back on my heels, my legs sinking deeply into the sand. My eyes stared dully at the black hair covering his body and the magnificent wings lying limp and awkward. Beckendorf had died on the ship. There was no way he could have lived. And Blackjack…

"Don't wait for us," I told him.

'But, Boss–'

"Trust me," I said. "We'll get out by ourselves.

'Good luck, Boss,' Blackjack said. 'Don't let 'em turn you into horse meat!'

The pegasus had already ceased moving. I stared numbly, trying to remember how everything had gone so wrong. Somewhere in the trees the conch shell alerted the camp to my arrival. No, I listlessly begged. Not yet. I'm not ready to face everyone with this. Feeling completely powerless, I buried my face in my hands.

Beckendorf closed his eyes tight and brought his hand up to his watch. I had no choice. Literally running for my life, I shoved my way through the cacophony. As I leaped from the ship, flailing desperately, an arrow pierced my thigh. I barely had time to register the pain when I landed hard on a firmly solid surface.

The air left my lungs in a painful, "Umph!" I clawed at the surface blocking me from the ocean. They had a second defense system? What was this? I had to get out, now!

Whoa, Boss!Clam down; it's me.

"Blackjack?" I hardly recognized him through my haze of panic and pain. For some reason, his unexpected appearance didn't hit me the way it should have. "What are you doing here?" I clung to him, reality slowly sinking in that Blackjack was here.

Well, uh, about that, Boss…he started.

"Never mind," I interrupted, a plan forming in my head as I spoke, "Beckendorf is in there. He still needs help."

You're the boss, Boss.

Blackjack flapped his wings in a powerful gesture, bringing us level with the deck.

Bad idea.

A spear ripped a hole through one of Blackjack's wings. I felt his pained cries surge through the telepathic link. He instinctively veered away from the ship. I was torn between loyalty and reason. I wanted to save Beckendorf, but if we didn't leave immediately, Beckendorf, Blackjack, and I would all die.

I didn't resist as Blackjack flew crookedly away. His decision saved my life. We only made it twenty yards from the ship before an explosion rocked the ocean. A green fireball lit the sky and the Princess Andromeda exploded from both sides. Shrapnel shot through the air and pierced through my shirt, lodging into the skin of my back. Blackjack whinnied in terror and pain as metal sliced through his hide. Sheer spite toward the ship and all its evils kept him in the air.

I must have blacked out because the next thing I remember was waking up, still on Blackjack's back as he flew unsteadily low. His hooves brushed the tips of the ocean waves and his body shuddered in pain.

"Blackjack?"

Yeah, Boss? he answered after a labored pause.

"Wh-where are we going?"

It took longer for him to reply this time. He seemed to need his focus on his wings to fly stably because as soon as he answered, we dipped closer to the water. Your camp, he replied.

Oh. I squinted at the horizon in front of us. How far did we have to go? If I dropped into the ocean, I might make it more quickly, but that still left Blackjack teetering on the edge of blacking out. I didn't feel confident enough to make any major decisions, so I asked a question instead. In an echo of before, but a bit angry now, I repeated, "What were you doing there, Blackjack? I told you not to wait for us."

Blackjack's head dipped down, whether from exhaustion or shame or contemplation I would never know. I didn't wait. I did what you said. I left, but I…I…

"Blackjack?" Dread formed a pit in my stomach and its gaping jaws swallowed me. "Blackjack, are you okay?"

He didn't seem to hear me, and continued to force the words out. I couldn't just let you go in there without a back– He shuddered, and his hooves dipped under a wave. –backup plan. You make a good boss, I felt his grimacing grin in the words, but you're lousy at strategic planning.

"Thanks, Blackjack," I humored him and mindlessly shot back, "You're a good friend, but you don't have much tact."

I do my best, Boss, he gasped.

"Blackjack?"

We're almost th… He reserved the fleeting energy to pump his torn wings harder, pushing us through the air toward the growing island.

"Blackjack," I muttered through my own gritted teeth. "When we get to the island, I don't want you passing out me, okay? And I mean that both ways. Don't crush me and don't black out. Do you hear me, Blackjack?"

No response. I focused on his back muscles jerkily relaxing and contracting as they powered his wings.

"Blackjack, I don't need another war hero, understand?" I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw throbbed in time to the ache in my thigh. "Blackjack?"

Blackjack, my friend, teetered in the air. He went a few feet into the ocean and his hooves caught the soft sand, causing him to roll and me to flip over him. We both lay silently on the clumping wet sand of the shore. Over the roar of the ocean, I only heard my own erratic breathing. I wasn't even sure of the moment Blackjack actually died, but he had carried me to safety.

The world around me sounded muted as campers rushed in a mass toward me. I lifted my head from my hands. Blackjack's body lay as a physical manifestation of my guilt. He had worried about me, come back for me, and died for me in the way a friend would. It wasn't fair. A pair of feet stopped next to me, and I looked up. My eyes made contact with Annabeth's. She looked at me with shock and sympathy, but I couldn't answer her silent request for explanation. I just stared blankly at her, wondering if one day I would lose her too.

You're welcome.

-Dante