Greetings. This isn't going to be very long, maybe only two or three chapters, and I wrote it based on a tumblr post that points out that Percy's mental health is never addressed, and when he's about to talk to Jason about it, Jason basically shuts him down and Percy closes up. I'm going to mainly address his after Tartarus feelings but things as far back as Gabe and even before will be brought up. Mentions of self harm and suicide are in this chapter, and depression and abuse will be later themes. If anything like this triggers you, please turn away now and be safe. I wrote this on mobile so there might be some strange mistakes. Thanks for being patient with them. I plan on finishing writing this before going back and correcting it. I don't know how often I'll update, but chapters will be longer than this one for the most part and largely dialogue based. I'll be changing the POV after this intro. Thanks for reading.
The Argo II was filled with omnipotent tension, fear that resonated from Percy and Annabeth, residual from their recent time in Tartarus. Nobody could blame them for being cold, withdrawn. The others had accepted that the two would never want to talk about their experiences, and would never have to.
But time passed. The ship drifted through sky and sea and eventually Annabeth confided in Piper. Tensions faded, though Percy was left alone. He was a boy. Boys didn't need to talk about their feelings. He would be fine.
Percy convinced himself that their notions were right. He was fine. He would joke and smile to play along to their fantasy, but nights were dark and full of tears. He couldn't eat, and when he did it was too much. He couldn't sleep, but when he did finally succumb to exhaustion it was as restless and terror filled as his plagued conscious mind.
He lost weight. He lost sleep. He was losing his mind. And still... nobody noticed. It was the stress of the quest, certainly, that was getting to the son of Poseidon. Not the demons trapped within his mind and buried in his soul, warping his senses to only feel pain. Not the pressure to be 'fine' to the casual eye when he was destroying himself from the inside out.
Nobody cared. He was convinced. They saw what was happening to him, but they didn't care.
After that decision was reached, he stopped pretending. He lashed out on everyone. Fought weakly, broke down into tears at the smallest things or nothing at all. He was going mad. There were too many things broken in Percy to help. He was a lost cause. The mental distress wasn't enough. He hurt himself, physically, hurt everyone around him in every way and when the burden he thought himself to be became too much, he ended it. Himself.
This is what Piper saw in Katoptris the day after they had closed the doors of death, and she was determined not to let it happen.
Annabeth had been okay. Piper had talked to her, so she would do that. Percy was her real concern. She would call on whoever she could to make sure the fate she had seen didn't befall him.
But now was too late, probably past midnight. She tried not to think of the nightmares Percy and Annabeth must be enduring, if they were even sleeping at all. At any rate, tomorrow would be the day.
She tucked her dagger away and laid down in an attempt to rest that seemed futile, and lasted into the morning with limited success.