Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, nor will I ever. *cries*

-PJO—PJO—PJO-

Percy's POV

'Nico hates me . . . doesn't he?' I thought, sitting in my dark cabin. 'I'm sorry . . .' Tears streamed down my face as I thought about the death I caused, all of the carnage and pain and heartbreak I caused by just being there.

"I didn't mean to," I whispered to myself, wrapping my arms around my knees and burying my face in my knees as I leaned back against my cabin door. Someone like me didn't deserve a bed, or comfort, or light, or anything. I didn't deserve to live.

"I'm sorry Nico. I'm sorry I killed Bianca, and I'm sorry I made you hurt, and I'm sorry I fell in love with you . . ." I kept whispering, apologizing, begging them to forgive me.

But no answer came, no comforting words or warm embraces. I didn't deserve that much anyway. It had been days since I'd come out of my cabin, and no one had come to get me or ask if I was okay. Not that I could blame them. Who would care about a piece of traitorous trash like me that caused so many people to suffer?

'No one,' I thought, answering the question. Sobs soon came with my apologies and begs. I tried to block out the pain of being hated, of not being wanted, but I couldn't. And the one thing that hurt the worst was the guilt.

I caused Nico to lose Bianca. I caused Silena to lose Beckendorf. I caused Luke's death. I caused my own mother's death in an accident with my powers. The guilt was consuming me.

I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't take the guilt or the hate or the pain. It was just too much. My sobs turned silent as my shoulders shook and I took Riptide out. I uncapped the sword and flinched at the faint glow that the Celestial Bronze let off.

I pushed my knees down so that they were only bent at a sixty degree angle and aimed the sword for my stomach. I pushed it slowly against my torso, letting the sharp blade cut through my orange shirt and scratch my stomach.

Tears were now silently streaming down my face. Then, in one swift motion, I plunged Riptide through myself so hard that the tip could be seen coming out of my back. I held back a cry of pain.

I only sat there silently, letting myself bleed out slowly and painfully, undeserving of a quick and painless death. Soon enough I could feel the darkness creeping up, taking my consciousness with it. I could faintly hear pounding against the door I was sitting against, and cries of my name, but I ignored them and let the darkness finally take me away into a sea of peace.

I could only hope, now, that Hades would have mercy on me and let me drift forever. But why would anyone show an act of mercy to someone as horrible as me?