Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: For the Summary Challenge.

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Summary:

There is a time in every girl's life when she starts to regret what she has done. And boy, this girl just got hit with about 17 years worth of regrets.

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I look around me and it's like I'm somewhere else. Maybe it's because I came so close to dying last night, but I think it's something else. It's like everything I've ever done is haunting me, and I don't like it one bit.

I was a decent person, for Lord's sake! I had standards that mostly stayed intact and personal limits that weren't crossed TOO much. I knew what I was good at and what I wasn't, and I tried to be good at everything. That doesn't count anymore. Being a good person... Some of my friends were good people, and look what happened to them!

I see people milling around aimlessly, as though they've lost all hope now that it's over. One of them, my friend Luna, notices me and walks towards me. "What's wrong?" she asks, and I know I can't tell her the truth.

"I'm just ... sad," I say. I've never been a good liar, and Luna's brilliant at reading people, so I know there's no way this is gonna work.

"A likely story," she says. "Who came up with that one?"

"I did." I figure she might as well know I'm an absolute wreck inside, so I begin to explain. "What I meant is that I'm not sure about anything. I don't think I can just pick everything up and move on, if you know what I mean."

"I don't think anyone can," she replies, and I know she means it. There are those of us who are bad liars, and then there're people like Luna, who simply CAN'T lie, especially not to someone they care about. "I mean, I know you've got more to deal with than I do, but I have things that aren't normal too."

It's easy for me to know what she means. She, at least, didn't have an extremely complicated relationship with a boy who, out-of-the-blue, LEFT her and didn't tell her why! I know it was for the good of our world and all that, but there is only so much that an explanation like that can cover.

And at least Luna doesn't have to deal with the fact that one of her favorite siblings is dead. I like all my brothers, of course, but let's just say I wouldn't be reacting quite this much if it were Percy instead of Fred. My family was a walking nightmare to begin with, and this is bad even for us.

I walk aimlessly, like everyone else I see, for a while. I think it's about an hour, but I don't have a watch or an internal sense of time, so I have no idea. Thankfully I don't see anyone else I know, which is the only good thing I can say about what's happening.

Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn my head and see the boy who's responsible for half the stuff that's gone on in my life, maybe more than that but I'm not sure. "Thank God you're okay!" he says, excited to see me. I, on the other hand, am far from that.

"Go away," I tell him, trying to bring back a drop of the girl I used to be, back when all I was to him was his best friend's little sister. Though I still love him, I'd give anything to go back to that.

"Why?" He's surprisingly dense - either that, or he's managed to forget what we were once, probably both. One thing about growing up with six brothers is that, once you've paid attention a little bit, you see that all guys are predictable.

"Like I said, scram," I reply. It's a little odd to be doing this, but do I care? No, I don't. I'm used to odd stuff, even when it's the variety of thing you hoped you'd never have to do. "I don't want to talk to you, and nothing you say is going to change that."

"Don't you understand?" he snaps, turning me so I face him. "I had to lose you to save you."

"Yeah, whatever the hell that means," I mutter, hoping he doesn't hear me. Out of desperation, I decide I need to try a different slant on things. "When you said you loved me, was that a lie too?"

"I never lied to you," he says, and I see how much he means it in his eyes and in his voice. I see other things too - love, longing, a certain level of ecstasy at seeing me alive and well... It blurs together, one emotion blending with another and becoming something else.

"I really hope you mean it," I say, my voice shaking a little even though I try to stop that.

"Look - if something had happened to you, if you'd ... died, I don't think I'd be able to live with myself."

Now I see that there is nothing worth regreting when it comes to him. What we were, with all the glorious things it was, was never a mistake.