The sink was cold.
Percy leaned over the sink, his hair- long, wet, bedraggled- falling in thick strands over his face. He stared at the water slowly draining away as his fingers slowly go numb. He isn't sure whether it is the chill of the porcelain or the tightness of his grip.
Taking a shuddering breath, Percy flicked his head up to face the mirror. His normally dark skin has faded to a sick off-color. There are bags a mile deep under his eyes. At eighteen, there are already signs of stress etched into skin. He looks old.
One shaking hand reached up to flatten his hair and Percy flinched when he catches his gaze in the mirror. Those green eyes are sharp. Dangerous.
Annabeth had once compared his eyes to a peaceful ocean- bright, capricious, and gentle. What he saw now was a sea at war.
Maybe I should have gone back to camp…
The first year after the giant's war had been spent recovering and catching up on his missed sophomore and junior year. His absence was explained as an old accomplice of his 'kidnapper' from years ago capturing him in revenge. It wasn't entirely wrong, when Percy thought about it. Percy got better. He took his time catching up, got to know Paul better, helped his mom prepare for a new baby sibling. He caught up with Grover, Clarisse, Tyson, the Stoll brothers, Katie- everyone. He met new campers. He talked to Drew- and gods, that conversation took ages. He agreed to go on some medications to help with the fallout and- it helped, once they figured out the right drug and the right dose. He was healing.
And then he decided to go back to mainstream school for his senior year. He could have dropped out. He could have done online school. But Percy wanted to go back- he needed to go back.
At first, everything went well. He made varsity swim at AHS, got an IEP and accommodations, with Paul's guidance, and managed to stay on top of everything. He got to visit camp at least once a month. A demigod figured out the hows and whys to why monsters honed in on tech-using demigods and a team was now working on blocking the signal so demigods could safely use tech, and Percy, as one of the strongest demigods and capable of defending himself from most monsters, was cleared for a trial run of the first prototype. He was happy.
Something about that first winter back in the mortal world hit him hard though. Maybe it was the darkness. The cold. Maybe it was the distance from his friends and the weight of his secrets. Maybe it was the shield of mystery at AHS fading and the sudden influx of whispers about him- his scars, his tattoos, his reactions…
Percy turned the water back on and splashed his face, eyes closed as exhaustion dragged his shoulders down.
I want to go home.
Percy wanted to be back at camp. He missed the stars, the open fields, the safety of his bunk…he missed his friends. He missed Grover. He missed Annabeth. He missed the quiet understanding. He missed seeing the light of realization when one of his swordfighting students figured a technique out.
I want to go home.
Percy let himself flip around so his back hit the wall and leaned against it, running a hand through his already messy black hair. His other hand clutched the beads of his necklace.
"Get it together, Jackson," he muttered to himself. "You can do this."
He took a deep, steadying breath. With one hand, he pulled the excess water off of his skin and hair and lobbed it into the sink.