I took a deep breath and put my hands in my pockets, the anxiety eating me up alive. My mystical sword-pen, Riptide, was in my right pocket, but I wouldn't need it. Well, shouldn't need it. When you're a demigod, you never know when some ancient Greek monster wants your head on a platter (I assume it's all the dam time).

"This looks like the place." I said to Annabeth as we walked up to the door. "Chocolate shoppe on the ground floor, a door leading to an apartment upstairs." I suddenly had a hard time breathing, a feeling of remorse overwhelming me. It was my fault I had to do this. If only I had known that―

"Percy?"

I turned to look at Annabeth, her long, shining blonde hair fixed into a Katniss Everdeen braid and her grey eyes filled with worry. Worry for me.

"Yeah?" I asked, only I could barely hear myself, choking back a little bit.

I don't think she needed to hear me though. She came forward and wrapped her arms around me. As we stood there for maybe a few seconds, she whispered in my ear, "It was never your fault."

Gods, I wish. I should have trained more outside of Camp Half-Blood. Heck, I should have gone to Camp Half-Blood all year round. I could have been faster, stronger, and not so indecisive. I could have saved more people if I wasn't spending my time going out for a stupid cheeseburger or trying to figure out the Pythagorean Theorem or whatever it's called. School was a stupid waste of time. I should have known better after my first summer at camp.

Annabeth hugged me tighter. "I know you don't want to believe me," she continued, "but it was her choice. Her sacrifice. Even if you had all the practice in the world, we would still be right here right now."

A couple tears started to run down. I couldn't hold them back. I even let out a pathetic little sniffle.

Annabeth let go and stood back, smiling through her also teary face and wiped the tears off mine with her thumb. It was a miracle that I had her, that she was one of the survivors of the war given that she was so close to me most of the time.

And then I came to terms with it. I had Annabeth. I had my mom and my stepdad. I still had a home to return to, a camp to go to, people I can talk to. Many of them died in the war, but many also lived to see a better day. Their death wasn't for nothing, not even close. They were brave to the very end when I myself was still trying to figure out what I was doing. We saved the world together, to honor those who had died in doing so.

We both took a deep breath then went inside the building. We went up to apartment #3 and knocked on the door. There was the sound of a book falling to the ground, frantic footsteps bumping into stuff as whoever was on the other side was in a hurry to answer the door.

The door was unlocked then opened by a man who looked to be in his late-30's, dressed in the work uniform for the chocolate shoppe, but not really kept up too well. His sandy blonde hair was sticking up Albert Einstein style and his beard was greatly unshaven. The worst part, the part that hit me deep, was the first thing he said as he opened the door.

"Silena?"

He looked at both me and Annabeth, shocked to see two completely different teenagers. He noticed our camp T-shirts, then looked at me. "Oh." He said.

I tried my best to speak evenly. "Uh, Mr. Beauregard?"

"Yes?" His eyes were starting to swell up.

I took in a deep breath and let the words flow. "My name is Percy Jackson and this is Annabeth Chase. We're friends of your daughter and we… we wanted to bring you the news personally."

Inspired by this post: post/137236533462/banannabeth-sometimes-i-get-really-hard-silena