Perseus Jackson (Percy)

It's been so long since he stood there, calmly watching the sea. Memory after memory hit him, just like the tides, crashing against the shores. He had walked out of his cabin, seeking some time alone.

After he had 'saved the world', he hadn't been given any peace for the past few months, always answering questions and replying those soppy letters he received from various girls. Though he admit that some of those girls seemed to be sincere, but his heart was for Annabeth, and her alone…

He thought back to the time when he had led a much more normal life – yes, it had been boring and dull, but at least he had a place to call home. He knew, or at least he believed, that he was safe and was living with someone he loved. Though he didn't show it, he was heart-broken and torn when he found out who he really was. He wasn't really sure what 'half-blood' or 'demigod' had meant then, but he knew enough to understand that his life had changed. It was the biggest turn of his life – and it wasn't going to be a good one.

Matters became worse when the first person he met was a Centaur and a girl who didn't even congratulate him for killing that stupid Minotaur. Instead she had glared and made him look bad in front of those strangers.

He wanted to cry, he wanted to call out for his mother like a small child. He dreamt of the times when he was still a young boy, sleeping and being cradled in his mother's strong arms; so comfortable, safe and secure. He yearned for a letter that would never come. The only thing that drove him forward was that he had to understand what his life was about, who he was, so he could get his mother out of wherever she was, even though she was dead.

Then he was accused of doing something that he never did. He had to help a god when he still didn't believe they existed. Poseidon? He scoffed. Poseidon's my Dad. Oh joy, how can matters get any worse?

But they did. And when he finally sent the Lightning Bolt back to his uncle, he had seen his dad for the first he was nervous at first, he soon felt the burning anger course through him, knocking the air out of his lungs. Everything came crashing down- how he practically ignored him his whole life, and how he left them when he was just a little baby. But he was struck by how similar he looked like his father, the Sea God. He had his green eyes, powerful and full of passion towards the ocean; he had his oily black hair too. Percy was almost a young replica of his father never thought about it, but perhaps it was a good thing to look like his father? Or should he feel that it's a curse. He was confused, but he didn't want to know- yet.

Even though he felt happy that his father had told him that he was proud of Percy, he couldn't hide his anger and dismay towards him.

Angry that he hadn't given her mother a better life; angry that he didn't come to see him after all these years of knowing that Percy thought his father was dead,perhaps lost at sea; angry that he didn't even care about him, or sent a letter telling him he was still loved, that he was watched over. Angry that he was merely a 'wrongdoing' of his.

He was a God for Gods' sake! If they can't even claim their own children and make them happy, what else could they do? How can they even let people pray to them, sacrifice to them without shame? How disgraceful.

But soon, he got used to the life, used to the twist and turns of events. He learnt to never trust people easily, as he was cheated and then betrayed again and again. He was tired of this life.

Sometimes he thought of committing suicide, all of the pressure of being the here. The fact that everything was just so darn complicated. Sometimes, he was so lost that he wished he could just not care about anything, to just lead a carefree life- but he knew he couldn't. It was frustrating, how all these things just had to have a curve to it, never giving you a straightforward. But when he really cleared his mind and sat down to think, he found it amusing and stupid. He was relieved that no one was there to read his thoughts; it would be so embarrassing. He chuckled softly, shaking his head in mock dismay.

But he still had friends, even though it was only two or three of them. He got quests after quests until staying in Camp and talking with his friends seemed unusual.

Waves crashed onto the shore, droplets of water rained down on him, waking him from his daydream. He allowed himself to get wet so he could feel the cool and calm sea.

The water calmed him down, soothing his raging emotions, twined together in turmoil within his head. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and stifled a yawn, but before he could protest, the familiar event replayed itself once again.

He was scared – a feeling he often felt, but never showed. He'll put on a façade, covering up his real emotions. Poker Face, forced laughter, fake smiles- those became his refuge from fear, and he wasn't proud of stood shivering on the road, shadowy figures passing by him, oblivious of his presence. It was dark and stormy outside, thunder and lightning rolled above him, shaking his skinny and fragile body each time it struck.

He shivered, walking against the wind, lost. He couldn't find the way back home, and he was still haunted by the images and scenes of the fight. What were does things? He asked himself. Those jagged claws and yellowing teeth, just inches away from his neck. The hollow and cold laughter, piercing through the darkness, echoing off the stonewalls.

He was only eight years old then; the world of demigods was still unknown to him. It was then that he first felt the longing and ache of wanting a dad. How he wished he could run into his father's arms, rough but assuring, and curl up into a ball and just rest, not a care in the world.

He wished he didn't have to look behind his back, watch every single step he walked, just because he doesn't feel safe, just because maybe, his father would walk out of the shadows and smile at him, apologizing for not coming home for so long. But no, he never saw him, and he didn't have any memories of having a father. He felt so lonely, so left out- someone who's father didn't care about, what was he? Nothing. He felt cheated, every time he hears his mother rambling on about how good his father was, he wanted to stand up and scream. He didn't want to talk about him, he didn't want to know about his father- he knew it was futile, knowing these would only make the scars and wounds hurt more.

He often imagined his father as a tall and handsome man with a kind and gentle smile. His eyes sparkling – green, just like his. He dreamt of him, thought about him, imagined him, but he never seen the man and he knew he never will. He was dead.

He stopped, he couldn't go on anymore; he was too tired and scared. But he didn't want to stay still. He took a deep breath and started running.

Once he started, he couldn't stop. He wanted to outrun the truth and all the facts that he didn't want to believe in. He wanted to run away from those images of the events that had just happened.

He ran, and ran, until the feeling faded a little.

Then he saw a light, hope and relief flooded through him as he jogged towards it. Only to find that they were the creatures that sought him out just now. It was those monsters. Monsters from way below, from down there, from the place we call hell. That was the first time he ever encountered the real world out there – a world that isn't all that peaceful and good to live in. Percy shook his head in disdain, why did he always think about the sad and fearful things when he was alone?The feelings crept up on him when he was thinking about something else, springing unwanted memories on him, making his mind ugly.

That's why he liked spending time with Annabeth. She always rambled on and on about useless and boring architecture, yet it filled up his time and made him think of stuff other than those that sent shivers down his spine.

Percy, Perseus Jackson, a dimwitted boy, a son of the Sea God, once a timid and shy boy, was now a grown-up and handsome boy.

As he walked down the dark 'road' of Hade's territory, he wasn't so sure if he had done the right thing, if this was the right choice. But he had taken one look at the mourning dead and made up his mind. He would do what he had decided to do.

He would be a confident boy. He wouldn't want to be someone who died with unfinished business, eyes bulging while trying to hang onto the boat that led them to their destiny of the Dead.

He took another deep breath and squared his shoulders and walked on.

He was a brave and thoughtful boy.

Percy smiled. He liked that memory. It boosted his ego and made his day seem more cheerful and less gloomy. The sea calmed down, the waves lapping onto the shores gently, the seawater beating on the rocks rhythmically, music to his ears. No longer something people were afraid of, fearing that the waves would break their ship, would take away their family members and friends…

His smile became a huge grin as he waved to his new friends in the water. He looked up at the clear, blue sky, at his uncle's unwelcome territory, and thought perhaps the sky wasn't all that bad either.

But demigod lives were never free of fear, and they were never at peace, so the next memory wasn't all that good anymore.

When he was turned into a guinea pig along with so many other 'warriors' and men, he was once again afraid. He thought he saw his real self that he really was the little useless lump of fur, an animal that couldn't even escape or squeak for help.

He had reflected then, to see what he had done wrong all his life. He was angry and dismayed that he hadn't even had the opportunity and dignity to say goodbye to all his friends and family. He clenched his sour fists and gritted his teeth wouldn't have had the face to live even if he escaped, would he?

But once he reflected, all his hope diminished, he realized that he really was useless. His mistakes were too many to be counted and listed; it would go on and on forever, never to end.

As a guinea pig, he went back to the scaredy cat, shameful, and not confident boy.

STOP! Percy commanded himself, what was he doing? Thinking about all these useless things, letting himself fall into self-pity.

He wasn't useless, he wasn't a lump of fur – he was a confident and proud boy. Was he?

When he bathed in River Styx, he had felt pain for the first time– real pain. Hot, burning pain that ate him entirely, not the normal bearable type of a moment, he had felt that he would be pulled away, along with all the other hopeless and sad_ dreams in the River Styx. He would have become one of the discarded toys, but something hindered him, making him come back to consciousness – Annabeth. That was why he suddenly became friendlier and nicer to her.

He felt that he was going to be torn apart, to be forever cast in the depths of the River, but he had succeeded. Inside he had rejoiced secretly, on the outside he was raw as a lobster, burning and uncomfortable.

He didn't tell anyone, he wasn't ready, about the fact that Annabeth had kept him alive in the River. Her visions, the moments he had spent with her, both happy and sad, had kept his heart beating.

After the experience, he became invulnerable, confident, and reckless.

Percy winced at the experience of the 'bath'. He swore to himself to never recommend a one in River Styx to anyone. One experience was enough for ten lifetimes. He shuddered, not from the cold, but from the evil that lurked inside his head.

He slashed, ducked, and slashed again. It was the biggest, and hopefully, the last war he would be in the Titan War. Monsters from Hades know where, demigods, traitors, and the Lord of Time himself, were all present.

His heart pounded with anger, fear and even hope. His face was beet-red with heat, he couldn't hold on any longer. That was when one of his few friends, Nico di Angelo, appeared, saving the day.

After the fierce yet heart-breaking battle, they won. Percy didn't even have time to rejoice when he was enveloped with hugs and compliments.

Then he had to make the greatest and hardest decision of his life.

It was then; the young boy became a hero, a friend, and a proud son.

Percy sighed as he lay down on the soft golden sand. He changed so much through all these years.

At times, he thought that his life was a torture, a pain in the back, unusual and unwelcome. But at other times he changed his mind. That being a demigod, a so-so famous hero could be happy, fun, and sometimes the unusualness could become special and unique. The unwelcome life became something that he should treasure because after all, there weren't that many demigods that were alive anymore.

He had refused the offer, refused it without a second thought or hesitation. He wanted to be with his friends, and he wasn't ready for the huge responsibility.

Annabeth had been close to tears when the gods provided him the offer. Then when he refused and tears had slid down her face, she broke down. She cried with happiness, with shock and relief.

That time, Percy was Annabeth's Seaweed Brain, a best friend. And a good boyfriend.

Percy got up and walked back towards his cabin. That was enough for today; he wanted to stop at a happy thought. His woodland friends waved and smiled at him as he passed by, and he grinned cheerfully back.

They all seemed unusually happy that he was the normal smiling boy he was when he first came to camp. He was free of worries, and decided to enjoy as much time as he could, before disaster could strike again.

After all, he was just a mere demigod – a teenager that should lead a happy event-filled life.

~La fin~

Thank you, Tokoloshe Monster for beta-reading this. You have been a great help. Love you!