A/N: Hey, guys! I'm finally back with a new story! With the fifth and final book arriving in the Heroes of Olympus series, I wanted to write this. I came up with the idea a while back, but I only just had the time to get it down. I've based this story following the events of Blood of Olympus, as the group, Percy specifically, try to rebuild their lives. I also based this off of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, which starts with basic necessities that you need to live like air, food etc. before developing into things that you live for. So, I hope you all enjoy, and I hope that this was a clear enough explanation!
Rating: M for slight violence, language, and a few implied adult themes. I'm not sure how far I'm willing to go with the adult themes, but not into extremely graphic detail. But needless to say, it's not for kids.
Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson, or any other characters from the series. All of them belong to Rick Riordan.
Chapter One: Air
Air (Noun)-A mixture of nitrogen, oxygen, and minute amounts of other gases that surrounds the earth and forms its atmosphere.
If and when you found out that you were a demigod, there were no guarantees. No promises, no contracts to sign, other than a seemingly intangible one with which you were inadvertently signing your life away. There was no going back, even if you didn't intentionally seek out becoming a demigod. If you were discovered in time and if you survived the trek back to camp, you were considered lucky. It seemed as though being a demigod came with a lot of ifs, and it was only recently that Percy Jackson had really accepted that fact.
Most dangerous or taxing occupations typically had some sort of reward system, something that you would reap the benefit from, or at least some did, anyway. Whether it was a generous sum of money or some other favor, they paid off in the end in some form or another. But a life as a demigod was quite the contrary. Percy figured that the gods viewed the chance of leading at least somewhat of a normal life was enough of a gift. But for many of Percy's friends, allies, or even the campers before him, that wasn't always a promise. Even something as simple yet so significant as settling down and having a family could dwindle with one false step or action on a quest, or anywhere besides the boundaries of Camp Half Blood.
Percy sat perched at the edge of his bed, with his feet lightly grazing the floor. His hands and arms noticeably trembled as he weakly kicked his legs back and forth, as he tried to regain control of his ecstatic breathing. He brought a shaking hand up to flatten the stray cowlick curling on the back of his head as he tried to recall the date. How long had it been, two, three months since they had returned? Percy glanced out the front window of his cabin, revealing only a pitch black square from the lack of light outside. Well, he knew it was late at night, at the very least.
It was only then that Percy realized how clammy he was. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead like rain on a windowpane, and he swiftly brushed it away with the back of his hand. He sighed, as he was still unsure of the date. He vividly remembered the day that they had all returned from the fight against Gaea. Many of the campers were beyond tired, and still recovering from the battle between them and the Romans. But, they managed to pull together in order to support the heroes, and give them a warm welcome home. While Percy and the rest of the group wanted nothing more than to be alone, they all managed to put on their best smiles.
The celebrations didn't last long, however, even with their adequate acting skills. After a few too many interrupted nights of screaming from one of the seven's night terrors, it became clear that they would be far better off if they were left in the solitude of wherever suited them. For most of them, the privacy of their respective cabins was adequate for their recovery. Leo, however, prefered the isolation that Bunker Nine provided. It was a rarity to see them outside of their cabins. And as the days went by, it was almost a non-existent event. And eventually, someone would have to bring them their meals, in order to keep the demigods from starving themselves in the midst of their own coping.
Percy rubbed his eyes, before grimacing slightly at the soreness of his throat. One of his hands drifted downwards, ghosting over it. From the rawness he could feel with each intake of saliva, he was almost certain that he had been screaming some point in one of his inevitable nightmares. He eyed the half-empty bottle of water laying on the ground by his feet, as he quickly scooped it up. Percy unscrewed the cap and downed what was left of the water, ignoring the musty taste that it had taken on from remaining in the bottle for so long. The coolness of the water soothed his throat, and he sighed with slight contentment.
He leaned forward, carelessly tossing the empty bottle aside as he rested his elbows on his legs. Percy glared downwards with his weary and exhausted eyes, as the sharp, paralyzing images of his nightmare from earlier returned. It was difficult to not think about, but even harder to stop thinking about. There were flashes of him and Annabeth, holding onto each other for dear life as they fell to the depths of Tartarus. The cold, chilling whispers of former adversaries crept through his ears like leeches, making his skin break out with goose bumps. Laughing, whether it took on an impish taunt, or filled filled pure evil, overwhelmed the broadcast playing through his ears, until Percy finally snapped out of his relapse from the hell of his nightly incubus.
He tried to draw in a huge breath of air, but no avail. It caught in his throat halfway through, as he gagged from the struggle. Percy gasped for air, desperately trying to remember how to breathe correctly. He continued to cough and sputter, grasping the front of his shirt with one of his hands. A strangled, guttural noise was all that managed to escape Percy's throat as he struggled for air. It only grew worse as it continued on, his vision tunneling.
And finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he was suddenly and unexpectedly given back his ability to breathe. They were short and labored at first, but it was sufficient enough for him at that point. Percy flopped backwards onto his bed, panting. Sweat had crept onto his forehead again, but this time, he made no effort to wipe it away. He stared up at the boards holding up the unoccupied bed above his, and he let out a weary sigh, filled with exasperation and exhaustion-Similar to that of a sob.
Percy felt his eyes well up with tears slightly, but he just barely managed to force them back with a forced scowl. And despite how relieving the brief release of tenseness felt, he wouldn't bring himself to cry, even if he was in the privacy of his cabin. He felt as though it would only further humiliate him. He looked around, knowing that if he spent another second in the cabin, it would probably send him spiraling into a panic attack. His feet scoured the surrounding floor as he continued to lay back, until they landed on both of his sandals. It was then that he sat up, wiggling his feet through the various straps and buckles without much effort. He shuffled quietly out the door, and onto the dark, abandoned grounds of camp.
He wriggled his way through the arms of his cleanest sweatshirt that he owned, walking in no specific direction. That's how he usually started out, anyways. Percy would simply wander through the grounds of the camp, quietly. The dew that had already accumulated on the blades of grass he walked across brushed his ankles, sprinkling them lightly with the moisture. He made his way past He made his way past the cabins, which were silent as those who lived inside slept. Percy, despite how frequent his sneaking out had become, couldn't help but notice the ominous feeling the camp grounds had at night, when they were abandoned for the evening. It made him feel...Alone. Any average person, if they were to stumble upon Camp Half Blood at the same time that he often took these walks, would assume that it was abandoned. And while he knew that it was anything but that, it was an uncomfortable sight.
Percy walked on, pausing occasionally at certain locations. The volleyball pit, basketball courts, until the stopped at the arena. He leaned against the rough wooden structure that went around the circumference of the enclosed arena made up of sand, running his hands against the worn material. The sliver of moon that was in the sky illuminated the grains of gritty earth inside the ring partially, as he stared blankly at it. Part of him longed and missed the arena, when he could still fight without much of a care in his mind.
But a larger, darker part of him loathed it. While it had given him life in a way, by ensuring that he might fight just another day, it reminded him of a bitter, more recent time, filled with war, violence, and bloodshed. He learned to protect himself, yes, but he learned how to hurt, injure, and kill, as well. Percy used these skills to wipe the monstrous scum that threatened his life, those living, breathing beings that certainly deserved it more than anyone or anything else. And like everything else that came with being a demigod, it came at a cost.
Percy was still alive, but so were the monsters he had slaughtered. Maybe not in flesh, but in spirit. Dark, sinister spirits. Their horrendous faces flickered throughout his nightmares, their chilling voices or guttural calls echoing through his ears. He winced, gripping the wooden railing as he forced the thought of them out from his mind. As he did, a breath of relief escaped him, knowing that he was safe for the time being.
Percy backed away from the arena, walking away from it as quickly as he could without stirring up too much noise. His casual gait had turned into a run, as if all of Tartarus was right on his heels, ready to tear him limb-from-limb if he faltered for even a second. Percy didn't dare to look back over his shoulder, out of fear that his wild imagination might just come horribly true if he did glance back. He kept his gaze fixed forward, where he could see the dark, yet sparkling waves of the ocean. If he could make it in...
By the time the grassy land of the campgrounds had transitioned into the sandy plains of the shore, Percy had broken into a full-on sprint. He kicked up sand as he did, but as he was coming down a steep hill of sand, his food caught in the shifty grit. Percy tumbled downhill-hard, until he was just inches away from the tide. It just barely grazed his hand, which was outstretched towards the water. After a moment of laying in the sand, face-down, he craned it in the direction of the shoreline.
He groaned weakly as he pushed himself up to his knees, which had already turned raw from the combination of the fall, as well as the sand. Finally, he rose to his feet fully, brushing himself off. Percy, once he had purged most of the sand coating him, looked up at the top of the hill. His breath hitched when he saw someone standing at the top, watching him. Panic almost instantly ensued, as he was unsure who it was. Had someone noticed him wandering? Were they going to turn him over to Chiron?
Percy looked around desperately, unsure of what to do, or where to go. Finally, he leapt into the dark tides, swimming down into the depths of the water. He swam down, intending to continue until he went as far as he possibly could. But he began to wonder who it was at the top of the hill. Could it have been one of the others? Jason, Piper...Annabeth?
His mind almost instantly filled with dread at the thought of them, particularly the latter. He stopped swimming downwards, as he perched himself on the ledge of a rock that loomed over a drop-off. Percy's chest weighed down with guilt of his earlier actions over the possibility that it may, in fact, have been one of them. He wanted to go back up, apologize, but he also knew that his cowardice to do so outweighed it. Percy sighed, shaking his head slowly as he did.
What kind of friend was he, what kind of hero could he ever be if he couldn't help them, the people he loved? His head faltered in shaking, and instead, lowered from the shame as his shoulders slumped downwards. Percy breathed in, but it caught in his throat as his eyes grew watery. When he released the failed breath of air, it came out as a sob, followed by another, and another, until he had keeled over.
Jets of bubbles poured from his mouth and nose as he cried, floating up to the surface. And they only grew worse as more time passed, and he sunk deeper into his grief,
"No..." He muttered, followed by a shallow breath, "No, no, no!"
He could feel himself cracking with each moment he spent feeling like a frail, useless, vessel that merely took up space and air. And he wasn't sure what would happen when the seams finally broke. Percy looked upwards, towards the surface of the ocean. He managed to keep his crying under control for a moment, knowing that he would have to return to camp at some point. As he pushed himself back up to his feet, he scowled in slight determination as he swam upwards.
When he broke through the top of the water, the cold breeze blew lightly across his face. Percy frowned slightly, blinking rapidly at the sensation of water running down his face. It was then that he realized how heavy his clothing felt on him, and how wet his hair was. He swam to the shore, assuming that he had accidentally willed himself to turn wet during his time underwater. Finally, he tumbled onto the sand, the sand sticking to his wet clothing like glue.
He sat up, facing the shore as he waited patiently. Percy was sure that whoever he had seen earlier was still around, and that they would come to him. And eventually, they did. They sat down next to him, silently, and without a word. Percy waited for them to speak first.
"You're soaking wet..." She mumbled, brushing a light, gentle hand across his left arm, "...And covered in sand."
Percy let out a low sigh, the voice calming, almost intoxicating.
He managed a weak grin, "Well, I did just go swimming."
"Well," She replied, mimicking his voice slightly, "Knowing you, you take every chance you get to brag about how you can stay dry underwater."
She continued to swipe her hand up and down various parts of his sweatshirt, brushing away the patches of sand. Percy stared at the tide as she did.
"I've missed you, Annabeth."
Annabeth's busy hands faltered at her nickname, before continuing in their work again.
"I've missed you, too, Seaweed Brain," She answered, almost in a whisper.
Her hand drifted down his arm, ghosting over it lightly, before landing on his hand. Percy turned it over, enclosing her hand into his. She sat down beside him, her head nestled into the crook of his neck.
"How did you know I snuck out?" He questioned, lightly caressing his thumb across the top of her hand.
"I've known about your late-night walks for a while," Annabeth replied, "I just...Didn't know whether or not you wanted to be alone. I don't know what anyone wants anymore. The war against Gaea...It's changed all of us."
Percy stared down, "You don't have to know."
"I just feel like they're my responsibility-All of them," She ranted, jumping to her feet, "We were, we are...A team. They can't just be cast away like-like...Garbage."
Annabeth's voice had since raised, but not at him, just out of pure bitterness.
"I know," Percy soothed, "I know...I feel the same exact way. I've spent the last few months, doing nothing but sitting in my cabin, wondering what I could do to help the others. So much so that I've made myself sick at times. But...I think that everyone else is doing the same thing right now. Annabeth-You don't have to do this alone."
He too stood, placing a hand on her shoulder. Annabeth turned, her shoulders slumped.
"Like you said," Percy muttered, "We're a team. We're friends...And we're in it for the long haul together."
As Annabeth nodded, Percy came to the realization that he had just told Annabeth something that he had been trying to tell himself for weeks. But why had it just hit him then, why not sooner? He pulled Annabeth towards him, wrapping his arms around her,
"We can do this," Percy said, kissing the top of her head, "I know we can."
She pulled away from him slightly, just enough to graze a light kiss on his cheek before nestling her face back into his chest.
"Gods," Annabeth sighed, "I've missed you so much."
He blinked his watering eyes rapidly, glancing towards the ocean with a sigh. Percy, after months of pain, isolation, and loneliness, finally felt as though he could start to rebuild. He felt as though he could breathe again.
Percy shook his head slowly, "You have no idea."
A/N: *Sigh*...Teen angst. Well, I hope everyone enjoyed the first chapter of this story, because there's nine more to follow. I always update my stories every Saturday, so keep your eyes peeled. And as always, guys, thanks so much for reading. I wouldn't be doing this without you.
Thanks!
Leaded-Pegasus
