Disclaimer: I don't own Class of the Titans, although I have taken some creative license to make up their kids. But I don't own any of the other characters. Studio B. Productions does.

Too Late

Jay walked down the same country road he had walked down for the last seventeen years of his life, every time hoping that what had happened had all been a dream, simply something of his own imagination. He hoped he would wake up soon, and pinched himself. But he didn't arouse. This was reality, coming to punch him in the face with it's cruelty. Birds sang merrily, but it was too late to save Jay's joy in the morning. Tree leaves rustled, trying to uproot Jay's hope in the world again. But it was too late.

For the first time in seventeen years, Jay walked this road alone, no children around his feet to help ease the pain of his loss, or to show him that the world isn't truly evil. It was too late.

As Jay turned down the bend in the road, a small, untraveled dirt road came into view. Unlike every other person and car that had come down this road before him, he turned down the path, as he did every year. Usually he would start to weep as he walked, but it was too late for him to shed any tears. He felt too empty inside. Nothing, not even tears, were in him. He was a void of life, with nothing to take from this world, and nothing to give. It was too late to save his soul, too late. It was already gone, like it had been seventeen years before.

He reached a tiny, secluded clearing rimmed with trees and small bushes; sunlight filtering through the tree's hanging branches to light up six headstones. Six headstones, for six wonderful friends, who had all died for naught. Jay hung his head. What was the world to him, when the ones he loved the most weren't in it? He moved on to look down at the first headstone' inscription. It was Theresa's, with her long, flowing fiery hair, and her beaming smile that had lighted up his world, and everything in it. She had been his, his love and light and hope, and now she was gone. Their little girl was all grown up, living with the pain of witnessing her mother being slaughtered right before her eyes. It was too late to save their child's innocence. Her world had darkened before she had even had a chance to see the light.

He moved along the row of heroes' stones, stopping at the next one to pause and reflect. Atlanta, with her rash, hot-headed temper, but the gentleness of a lamb, a great friend, and wonderful "aunt" to his daughter. She and Archie had died in each other's arms, leaving behind a little boy around his daughter Tamie's age in Jay's keep. He was all grown up and in love with Tamie. Jay shook his head. To fall in love again might help him in his pain, but it was too late. His heart had been stolen when he fell in love with Theresa, and she had taken it with her when she died, making sure that with the last of her physcic powers that Tamie had not been injured when Cronus had come and killed her for revenge.

Jay still remembered when he had come home from work to see Theresa dead on the floor, Tamie sitting beside her, tears rolling slowly down her chubby cheeks. She had looked up at him with a face so much like her mother's, silently begging him to take away her pain. But it was too late, for both if them. When he had realized that his other friends were in danger, he had rushed to save them, but it was too late. They had all fallen under Cronus' wrath, leaving behind young children, spouses, and him, to grieve.

Cronus had been defeated and locked up in Tarturus again, but Jay knew he couldn't depend on him staying there for long. Unlike his friends, gods lived for ever. All Jay had left were memories, to share and to cherish.

He moved on to Odie's. The smart one, the one who had come up with ingenious inventions, the one who had come up with brilliant plans, hadn't even lived long enough to see his twin girl and boy turn six years old. His lovely Calypso had moved away back to her lonely island, bringing their children with her to live out their lives in seclusion as their mother mourned. It was too late for them to grow up normally, with friends and family surrounding them. Their world had been shattered. All they had was each other, and maybe that hadn't been enough. Nobody had heard from them in seventeen years.

Archie's headstone was beside Odie's. Archie, the warrior with an even worse temper than Atlanta, but with a sensitive side that had charmed and won her heart. He had never let Theresa have the last word, although he had never won their fights, either. He had been a closet poet, writing a poetic story about their adventures when Atlanta and him had been killed. Jay still had the poem he had taken form Archie's cold, clasping fingers. He would keep it forever, the only real memento, except for memories, of his dear friend. He wished he had published it when he had gotten the offer, but it was too late to make Archie's lifelong dream come true.

Archie and Atlanta's child had become much like Archie, argumentative, but sensitive. He had a long way to go to win Tamie's heart, but Jay knew that he was doing a swell job so far.

Jay kept on going. The second last headstone was Neil's. Surprisingly, Neil had actually fallen in love with a model, and married her within a year of their meeting. They had a child, but eventually Neil's self-absorbed character had driven her crazy, so she had left, leaving their little girl in the care of her father. She had been away at boarding school when he had been killed, and Jay had driven there himself to give her the bad news. She had become another of the children Jay had taken under his wings and taught how to fly, leaving home early at the age of sixteen to pursue her dream of becoming an actress. After a long, rolling ride, she had finally succeeded. Now she was famous, but no less happy. Her father's death hadn't affected her as much, for she had hardly known him.

The last one whom Jay grieved was Herry. The big strong man, he should have been able to defeat Cronus, but he had given up his life when he had learned that Cronus had kidnapped his beloved wife. Cronus had gotten what he wanted, and he let Herry's wife go to lament her heroic husband, faithful and loyal to the end. She now lived in the city with their two children, a grandmother to the son of her older daughter. She was always extra careful, as were her two children, for they all knew too well what evils the world tried to hide. Their joy in life had been drained from such fear that they were to afraid to cross the street without a weapon. The life they lived was horrible, without joy and love, too overpowered by the fear that should never have been able to ruin their lives. It was too late to save them from themselves. Too late for all of them.

Yet the world kept spinning, and people kept living. Jay looked around the clearing once more. Ms. Persephone had made sure that the clearing had been the perfect spot to bury the fallen heroes, with the quiet and beauty they deserved. Jay thought he was the only one who visited the graves, but as he looked down at them all once more, he noticed fresh-cut flowers at each grave. He hadn't put them there. He sighed. So many mourned these fallen champions. So many lives it was too late to resuscitate.

He turned and started to walk slowly out of the small graveyard, taking all his memories with him, and leaving his soul behind. It was too late to save him, too late to renew his love of life, too late to rekindle the joys of the past. He was a solitary figure on the horizon of life, without his friends to help him go further. It was too late for him. He couldn't even mourn. Couldn't laugh, couldn't cry, he didn't even care enough to want to die. He was simply filled with nothing, simply skin and bones without any essence. It was too late, too late for him. No more joyful mornings, no more twilight walks. It had been this way for many years, and like every other year, the same thoughts ran through his mind. He was empty. He had failed his friends, and failed himself. He had botched his chance to save his friends, had been too late to rescue his own self.

Too late. Strong words that haunted him every day, now, and for the rest of his life, reminding him of everything he had failed to protect.

Ten years later, Tamie and Archie and Atlanta's son, Akin, stood in the clearing Tamie had avoided for nearly thirty years, watching as the gods packed down the last bit of dirt on the last gravestone. They had requested her father be buried by her mother, together even in death. Her father had wasted away in sorrow, letting what he hadn't accomplished dim his view of what he could've accomplished. She took a step forward, leaving her husband to visit his own parents' headstones. The gods disappeared, leaving them alone in their grief. She laid down some flowers at her dad's grave, then did the same for her mother's, remembering the night Cronus had ruined her future. She frowned, realizing that they had made his job easy. Where had that gotten them? Her dad was dead; his friends' kids were either ignorant of feeling or too afraid to do anything with their lives. She wouldn't let him do that anymore to her. She instinctively rubbed her stomach, feeling the kick of the child she was carrying. It might be too late to save her father, but it wasn't too late to save the future of her child. She wouldn't let her pain control her, she wouldn't let it make her forget that where there's sadness, there's also hope. She would be strong; she would conquer her nightmares from the past. The memories, they were just memories. They couldn't do anything to her, couldn't kill her, and wouldn't take over her life. That was a promise, because out of everyone she knew, she was the only one who truly believed in revival. She hoped, believed, knew that it wasn't too late. No matter how much she had lost, she had so much more to live for. She only wished her father had realized that before it had been too late. But that was him, this was her. And she would live on, for her husband, for her children, and for herself. Because it wasn't too late.

A/n: This is just another one shot I did off another idea. I know some people like sad stories, so I decided to write one. I never thought that I'd be writing sad stories for Class of the Titans. Oh well, writing these stories have allowed me to expand the type of writer I am. Please review! (Oh, and for all those who have bad things to say, go ahead. Bad reviews would help me to better my ability to write, and they're just as welcome as good ones.) -Becky