He was glad it was raining. No one could see the tears rolling down his cheeks. No one would take note of the puddle at his feet. He felt like he had cried enough to do that; form a puddle on the ground. He felt like he had cried enough to form an ocean, and he still had more to give.
He was glad the cold rain ran down his back. He could feel it. He could still feel when it felt like his world had exploded. Yes, he could still feel. The numbness in his chest was a broken heart, not the coldness of death creeping in on him.
He looked up at the grey sky. The low hanging clouds that released the chilling rain was parting to allow a thin ray of light to shine on the ground, a ray of hope on this terrible day. He would have scowled if he had the energy, but all he had the energy for was standing. Standing, and letting the rain hide the creeping numbness from his chest and the tear stains on his hollow cheeks.
His eyes looked out, through the strands of wet hair falling over his face. Water droplets fell through his vision, large splashes compared to the rain drops beating away at his head and shoulders. Everything was glistening in the pale sunlight trying to chase the rain away, it should have been beautiful. Not to him, nothing would ever be beautiful again.
She was dead. His everything, his life, his future, an integral piece of his existence was gone forever. He was mad the sun was trying to bring cheer to the world. He was mad that people were still living, going about their everyday lives like nothing had happened, like she had not died. He was mad at himself too. He could have saved her, he had been so stupid. So, so stupid!
His head dropped back to the ground, to his side where she should have been standing with her arm wrapped trough his. He could still see her standing beside him, but her face was pale, her eyes large and unblinking. A dead face on the warm image still engraved in his mind.
He sighed, closing his eyes, willing the ghost away from him. Another ghost to follow him around, another ghost he would see at his side. He could not do this, not with her. He just wanted the ghost to leave him. He wanted her to be alive still.
But she was dead. She died because of him. She died because he had been arrogant and cocky. She died to save him. He should have died. It was supposed to be him. He was the one they were all after, he was the one who started that fight, he was the one who had messed up. He should have died for that, not her.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his fist clenched in the pocket of the jacket. "I'm sorry," a new wave of tears welled and spilled over from his eyes. "This is all my fault," he shook his head looking back to where she stood at his side.
It's not, her ghost turned the sightless eyes up to him. I made a choice.
"It should have been me."
I said I would protect you, her smile stretched over the pale lifeless face. I did it because I love you.
"How do I live without you?" He looked pleadingly at the image.
Her smile waned as she looked away. I made a choice.
"I wish you hadn't." He whispered, his fist tightening in his jacket pocket.
It was my choice, she repeated.
He sighed closing his eyes as the tears ran down his face. He was a hero and he had failed to save her. What kind of hero failed to save his girl? What kind of hero failed that badly?
"I'm sorry," he repeated looking back to the grey sky.
The clouds were starting to disperse. The sun was melting them away, bringing a false sense of joy to the valley. A pool of brightening sunlight grew in front of him, spreading from that first hopeful ray. He stared at it, wanting it to leave him. He was not hopeful, his world had ended.
Cold rain had soaked through his jacket, trickling down his spine. He should move, go inside and change. But he liked it. He liked the chill of the water on his skin. He liked it because he could still feel it, she would never feel it again, and it was his fault. The cold was just a reminder, like everything else.
The rain had stopped. The tear stains were visible on his hollowing cheeks. They would see it now, they would know now that the rain had stopped. The puddle at his feet swirled with his emotions, the mingling waters unable to resist him. He had cried enough to form the puddles, cried enough to fill an ocean. But it was not enough, he could never cry enough for this.
"Percy," a hand on his shoulder, he turned his watery green eyes to the boy beside him. "Come on Perce, it's time."
Sadness laced their voice, all of them were sad. All of them suffering, but only he was dying on the inside. He was the only one who had lost everything.
Percy looked back to where she should have been, imaging her hand in his, her smile beneath those stormy grey eyes. Not even the ghost haunted him now. They only did when he was alone. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes so he could see her face one last time.
"I'm coming," he spoke to her as much as to the demigod beside him.
He wished it was still raining, they would never see the tears in the rain. He could pretend she was still there in the rain. His Wise Girl was in the rain, and the stormy grey clouds dissipating in the sun.