The day began well enough. The seven met at breakfast, talked for a while about anything. Anything but the upcoming war. There was a sight tension in the air that had been there since Percy and Annabeth had returned, but it was softer than it had been. Everyone skipped around the subject of Tartarus. The couple had returned, bloodied and bruised, through the Doors of Death, significantly more broken and scarred than before. They tried to hide it, but it was obvious.

Percy returned to his cabin for a while after that, and then returned to the mess hall. He walled in, started to greet Jason, who was sitting in the closest chair. And stopped.

Five of the seven sat playing poker. Poker.

"If I don't win, kid, you're getting it."

Nine-year-old Percy would stop and shiver slightly, then walk to his room where he could cry and hope that his stepfather won.

Sixteen-year-old Percy just stared and pushed back the memories.

"Get me a soda, will you Perce?"

He didn't know who asked, because at that moment it wasn't Piper or Frank or Leo; it was Gabe.

"Get me a beer, and quick."

Nine-year-old Percy ran to the fridge and grabbed a beer.

Sixteen-year-old Percy just stood, lost in memory. He backed away further.

"Where's my beer, kid? I asked for a beer."

Gabe, potbelly bulging and breath as rank as ever, stood. He stepped towards the boy with a bottle in hand. "When I ask for a beer, I want a beer."

And his friends behind him laughed, jeering at the boy.

Percy backed right against the wall as the man stood over him.

"Percy are you alright?"

And Gabe's hand reached up, and came down. There was a flash of stinging pain as Percy stumbled, cheek aching.

"Percy? What's happening? Get Annabeth!"

The small boy slipped past his stepfather and ran towards the door. He heard a yell of anger behind him, and then pain in his back. Great pain, now as glass cut across him, the alcohol from the thrown bottle turning the pain to something close to agony for the small nine-year-old.

He cried out, falling to the floor, and then Gabe came closer. "Still haven't got my beer?"

"Percy, talk to us, come on. Move or … just do something!"

"Come on, Seaweed Brain."

And then there were comforting arms around him, and Gabe disappeared along with the apartment. Annabeth hugged him and the painful memories slowly washed away. Percy's cheeks felt damp and he realised he had been crying. He shook slightly, and knew that everyone had seen. Everyone would want to know. They'd want to know about what he had only ever told Annabeth, Grover and Thalia. He hadn't even told Tyson or Chiron or Rachel.

Slowly, Percy extracted himself from Annabeth's grip and, without looking at anyone, walked straight out.

They all sat in the Zeus cabin. The seven sat in a rough circle. Leo had returned from Ogygia, and Calypso was currently talking with Chiron.

"I don't think we actually know each other well enough." Piper said, "I say we play a game or something, and each of us has to say the best and worst moments of our lives."

"But we'll already know half of that." Leo suggested, "Let's do it so it's the best and worst that not everyone knows about."

"Yeah, sure. I'll start?" After some nods of assent, Piper began. "There were a few weeks once when my dad wasn't working on another film or anything. We just hung out, and he taught me how to surf. It was amazing. And the worst … one time I didn't even speak to my dad for three months. Some of the filming was in New Zealand, and he wanted me to stay in school because exams were coming up."

Jason continued, "I don't even remember my life before Camp Jupiter. I guess the best was when I was younger, I didn't have any problems … not a care in the world. I trained, I lived in Camp and I knew nothing else. The worst was when I realised that nothing was that easy. I was Praetor, and the stress really got to me."

"When I first learned to shoot, with my mom, I felt like I was finally good at something. I was about average in all my classes, and the archery ... I felt like I had a thing. My thing was archery. The worst was obviously when she died…"

Percy felt sick. He was next to Piper, so would be last, but as the turns continued steadily up the line, he didn't know what to do. He knew what the worst times of his life were, but he didn't want to say. They'd think he was weak, unstable. But the whole reason of this was so they could work as a better team. Percy didn't want to lie. He really didn't.

The scars left by Gabe weren't only physical, like the one that still slashed across his back. They were scars on the mind, and he didn't want to reopen them. Still to painful, too fresh.

"Back in my first life, I hated seeing my mother when she was…"

They would look at him pityingly. They would step carefully around him, as if he was followed by shards of broken would want him to talk about it, yet wince when he told them.

"...yet before that, she was so kind. The best moments of my non-demigod life was my time with her, and we'd talk about useless things, and then I'd ride with Sammy…"

Percy had no idea what to do.

Leo began, "My mom was awesome. We would stay in the workshop for hours and hours, and she'd teach me how to use the tools and stuff. The worst … well, some of the places I stayed in were bad. One woman would forbid me from speaking. Another was a bit weird - she'd try to read my spirits or something like that. They took me away from her when she tried to sacrifice her cat for the evil spirits that supposedly surrounded it. This one couple … they'd lock me in a cupboard if I broke one of their stupid rules. Once I was in there for three days. The next was another couple. They hit me. Nothing much, just a couple slaps, but I was pretty shaken up. I ran away after that, away from the foster program altogether."

Piper went over and hugged Leo. They hit me. Gabe did that. It only got worse after that event when Percy was nine. Just a couple slaps. A lot worse. Once, when Percy had just turned eleven, Gabe had beat him with a belt. Every stroke of the leather had been like a tongue of fire. Percy had cried all that night. Blood had covered his back.

"My dad sometimes took me out to the cinema. We'd watch anything, really. After Helen came, it wa the only alone time I had with him. That was such a great feeling. For the worst, well after I ran away, monsters would chase us all day and night. Yeah, Luke and Thalia were great, but I hardly ever got any sleep. I was always aching and tired, sick of it all."

And then it was Percy's turn. He easily spoke of his favourite memories. "You guys have met my mom. She's amazing. All my time with her was like a break from everything else when I was younger. From my struggles in class, and bullies, and Gabe. Her cookies are to die for."

He didn't know what to say now. He stopped, closed his eyes.

"What about your worst memories, Perce?"

Should he? What else could he say?

"Go on Percy. You can tell them." A soft voice, but commanding. Strong. Smart. Annabeth.

Percy opened his eyes and looked at everyone. They looked confused and worried.

"I had a stepfather called Gabe." Percy paused, "He was an idiot. Always drunk, and he hosted poker parties every other day. His friends would come round. And he'd always be drunk by the time I got home. And he … he would hit me. Not much at the beginning, but it got worse. He started … started throwing bottles at me. When I just turned eleven…" Should he say? Yes. They were his friends. "He went further. He beat me … beat me with his belt, and it hurt. It hurt so much, and I got so angry. So the next year, we killed him. Mom and me. I had Medusa's head, so I gave it to Mom, and she did it. Got loads of money from the statue, too. We moved out, and that was it. He was gone."

Everyone was quiet for a moment, and then Hazel stood up. She wrapped her petite arms around Percy. "Thank you. For telling us, I mean."

Percy smiled as everyone else joined the hug.

"Now where's the statue?" Jason asked, "I want to kill it."

Annabeth laughed. "I've seen it, Jason. Sally is a brilliant sculptor."

And Percy was content as a weight lifted off his heart. Because his friends were beside him, and they loved him. They didn't pity him, and they didn't treat him differently. He wouldn't cry over spilt secrets because they were friends, and the truth, however bitter or painful, strengthens friendship more than sweet lies can.

Thanks for reading! I love how supportive the seven are to each other as friends, and I don't think some 'spilled secrets' could get between their flawless teamwork.

Please drop a review telling me what I can improve, or any other secrets that could spill!