DISCLAIMER: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, or any of the characters you are faintly familiar with.

AU: In honor of the holidays' rapid arrival, a present for one of my best friends, Jada- Felizespana. You're awesome, love, seriously. You've been there for me when I need it, and I really appreciate it, truly. Just a notice to anyone who is not It's All In Your Mind or Felizespana, this takes place after the Battle of Olympus (the final battle in TLO). Rea Everard is Felizespana's character, Nettie Stryder belongs to It's All In Your Mind, and Lore Delayne belongs to me. Christmas giftshot, reviews and comments appreciated. Rated T for swearing.

You guys have no doubt heard of the Greek Gods; we hear about them constantly- staring us obnoxiously in the face almost everywhere we go. Documentaries about the Greek Ruins on the Discovery Channel, and exhibitions in famous museums show us the golden drachmas of the past. Books school-kids have to study from know-it-alls like Homer tell us all of the "brave feats of strength and courage" that ancient heroes like Achilles performed in immortalized battles.

You see there; that's what pisses me off.

First off, Achilles had a head start, an unfair advantage. He was a demigod, the son of a mortal king and the immortal nereid Thetis, so he had the sea and superior strength on his side. On top of that, he had been dipped in the Styx when he was a baby, meaning he was as strong as Helen was beautiful, and was invincible. The funny thing is that no one remembers that he was also moody son of a bitch who let hundreds of brave teammates get slaughtered before he even bothered to man up and stop being a pansy.

But the thing that really gets to me is that Homer had no idea what he was talking about. He didn't know the first thing about a war, let alone one concerning the gods. He was a bard for Apollo's sake! A singer! A blind one at that- so there you have it, Ladies and Gentlemen. The only account of a war that is talked about regularly - a war that thousands fought and died in for 10 long, brutal, horrific years – is from a blind poet who makes it all sound like a tea party.

Well wake up, people.

War isn't like that, especially not where the gods are concerned.

A war like that is not glamorous, not in the least. First off, people die. And notice I say "people" and not, "enemies". Enemies are just a term that idiots give to the people they intend to decapitate. If you dehumanize those you mean to kill, it makes people a lot eager to do so; it's like killing animals then, nothing really to worry about. These "enemies" that we fought were real people- people with families; sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers. People who cared about them.

There are a lot more than two sides, a lot more than good and bad in these wars. One side isn't simply evil, and the other isn't just good. It's so much more complicated than the labels that they were given. There were those who wanted to cause pain and suffering, those who were simply in it for the horror. There were those who wanted to defend us, to fight evil, those who fought for good and justice (as corny as it sounds). There were the undecided, they who went for the side with the scariest allies, or those who looked like they were going to win. The cowards.

And then, there were the others. The ones that everyone on my side said were traitors. Turning to the other side to hide behind the Titans, they said. But that's not true. The 'traitors' they were called; they who abandoned their parents and the life that had existed for millennia for nothing.

Bogus.

Some of them were hiding, true, but I am not talking about them. I'm talking about the ones who turned to make a difference. The ones who betrayed their parents to bring justice, they who did it because they truly believed that it was the right thing to do. What I'm talking is treason, I know, but it's the truth. The type of truth that only a few are left to recognize- almost all the others are dead.

Nettie Stryder and Lee Fletcher were the most adamant of this particular point. Nettie is a party animal with a love of hard tequila and a hungover glare that could make the sun stop shining. She and her brothers, Castor and Pollux, were the only members of the Dionysus crew that I'm aware of, but hell, they were always great to party with. I never did find out from Castor how exactly he procured all of that booze, but hey, somethings are better not knowing.

Nettie and I were never particularly close before the war, she always had her own group, and I had mine. Yet some members of her group were the "traitors" that many talked of, her best friend, Silena Beauregard, had been working under Kronos for years before she was killed by the Drakon. Nettie was gobsmacked, to say the very least, and felt betrayed. After all, her long-time boyfriend and fiance (another, very long story), was killed by the Titan Army, along with her brother Castor. Charles Beckendorf followed soon after, dying heroically in the explosion of one of the Titan Army's main weapons Silena died, it was revealed only to her from Clarisse (one of her other friends) that she had been under Kronos' influence. Nettie broke down. Other than her brother, Pollux, she was the only one of her friends left. The knowledge of this would be enough to drive another person insane, but somehow she got through it. During the last days of the war, Nettie was an adamant believer in the "traitors", as they were now called. She and Pollux, along with Will Solace and I, were among the only ones who did, now that most had died.

But there was only one person who truly believed that there was another reason to the war. Lore Delayne, my best friend. But by the time I had realized it, she was already dead- killed by the Titan Lord himself. From the very day the Titans' Army was known, the days that demigods started vanishing from Camp Half-Blood, she always looked for the other side of it, trying to find the reason that would turn teenagers into killers, their main target being their own parents. She worked tirelessly, even though others never understood why. Most thought she was doing it because she herself wanted to change sides, but was too cowardly to do so. Only I knew the truth.

Why, you ask? Why would she be so committed to believing that there was more to these traitors then everyone thought?

Love.

My best friend was in love with a "traitor", actually, and I'm not talking about the type of sissy "he's so HOT" kind of love; I mean actual love, the rare thing that comes along to one or two couples every fifty years or so. In all my 21 years, I have yet to see or read anything as true and sweet as what they had, and I have a feeling I never will.

Lore Delayne, my best and most awkward friend, fell head over heels for the cold, emotionless Ethan Nakamura the very first time she saw him. I could say the same for Ethan, as there was always another look in his dark, cold eyes when he regarded her. I saw it even when he lost one of his eyes, it was still evident.

They were perfect for each other, to say the least; each made up for the other's faults. Where she was clumsy, painfully shy, and useless at fighting; he was daring, lithe, and amazing with weapons. Where he was cold, calculating, and completely antisocial; she was warm, sincere, and compassionate- once you got through the shyness. She was the one who calmed him when he was angry, the only one who could really get through that cold exterior, the one who brought out the light in him; he was the one who defended her, who would kill anyone who hurt her, guarding her almost greedily with every ounce of strength he had. She was the one who made him learn- to focus on the myths and books; he was the one who forced her to fight- to at least be able to defend herself if needs be.

He was her courage, and she was his kindness.

Nettie Stryder and Lee Fletcher were another example, yet their relationship was so light, so easy. The two of them were always pranking people, snickering amongst their group of friends. There wasn't a doubt in anyones' mind that those two would be the first to get completely wasted in Vegas and wake up dressed as the blue man group with wedding rings on- unless Silena and Beckendorf got there first. Yet Ethan and Lore were different, special. The two of them were their own label, never fitting under the categories people give others these days.

It was truly beautiful, the two of them. They made the most amazing team- yet… they were never formally a couple. They both died before they realized the other's feelings.

He was also the reason she died. And she was his.

Lore Delaney. My best friend of almost seven years. The kindest person I had ever met, killed without a second thought by the very thing that her love was working for.

She had gone up to Mount Olympus in the midst of the fight to convince Ethan that he was making a mistake. I had been the only one to try and stop her, the only one to try and warn her that if she went up there, she was not coming back down. Lore had simply looked at me in the eyes- her huge red-brown eyes that were filled with such sadness and compassion, out of place on a battlefield, and nodded. Somehow, she knew she that she wouldn't come back, but none of that mattered to her. I saw it in her eyes, she was not thinking of death, of the pain it would bring, even though it was all around her. She had cried enough for the war's sake, so now it was time to think of what mattered to her- not to her mother, the gods, or to anyone else. Only her. I had never met anyone so selfless in my life, but right then I wanted to smack her right across the face and tell her to get back to the healer's tent where she was needed. I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake sense into her; make her see the hopelessness of our situation. We needed her. I needed her. She had been my best friend when my life actually started to matter, the one I shared laughter with, told my secrets to, the one I trusted. I had shared the greater part of my life with her; above anything else at camp, seeing and laughing with Lore was home for me. I guess that's Hestia's blessing. I didn't want to see the resigned look in her eyes, the distant sadness wringed with another emotion I had known.

I didn't want her to throw her life away. What would I do then? I had lost my favorite brothers, friends, routines…

All to him.

There we go again- Him. Him? I might as well be saying- "that".

What has happened to me? I cannot even bring myself to say his name, for fear of breaking down.

I trusted him.

Grew with him.

Even... loved him.

And never forgiven myself for it, for he who made me love him caused the pain in my best friend's eyes, the screams of dead and dying, the crying of those they left behind. Every day I try to convince myself that he is evil, that I did the right thing by declining the offer he made me before the fight. Yet every night I replay it over and over in my dreams, haunted by the last thing he said to me, lured in by those beautiful, pleading blue eyes. It takes me the day to find my footing, scale the rocky mountain of my decision, determined to reach the top; only the moment I close my eyes I'm falling all the way back down again, landing with a splash into the place where I was before, when I woke up.

I wanted so much to agree, to nod my head and smile at him, so say "yes, I will join" and to have him take me in his arms and hold me there. It would have been so very easy, to say yes. To give in.

But there is a difference between the right thing and what you want.

Always a difference.

I saw that difference the moment I saw Lore's eyes, wringed with sadness, yet brimming with love. The difference made me want to cry.

"I'll be back." Was all she said, a sad attempt at a grin on her face as I watched her retreating back disappear behind the transparent sliding doors of the Empire State Building. We both knew it was bullshit. She wasn't coming back. You had to be invincible, be dipped in the Styx, and have simple dumb luck to survive against a Titan. You had to be Achilles, Odysseus, Jason, Perseus, or Hercules; one of those so-called heroes we hear sung in praise through the ages.

Lore had none of that. Lore had never had anything, never been anything but unfalteringly kind. Not fast, good with weapons, or even behind battleplans. She was the home everyone came back to after the war. Her death meant much more than the loss of a friend. We would lose a home.

I watched my best friend climb into the abandoned elevator leading up to the war-torn cloud that was Olympus, giving me one last smile.

In that smile, I saw everything I wanted back.

My life, my friends, my family.

Him.

But, like Lore, it was all doomed.

I'd like to say that that realization spurred me on, the sacrifice made by my friends and family made me lead the Demigod Army into a glorious victory against the Titans. Rush into the heat of the battle, screaming something unintelligible, but along the same lines as, "For Narnia, and for Aslan!"

I'm sure that's what you'd like to hear, too. Don't try to pretend you wouldn't, I know how we all like happy endings. The head counselor of Apollo leads everyone to a heroic victory to avenge all that was lost, a battle to end all battles, something that could rival the Trojan War for its deeds of strength. Everyone embraces, happy to be alive, and the demigods in the Titan's Army realize the error of their ways and run back to our side, where they are welcomed with smiles and open arms. Then Percy Jackson, the hero that everyone talks about, comes back down, arm in arm with Kronos (who has finally gotten his own human form) and Annabeth, shaking hands with the former and passionately making out with the latter until someone, most likely Travis Stoll, yells, "Get a room!" And then Lore comes down, warm and comforting smile on her face, hand in hand with Ethan Nakamura, the two of them positively glowing with happiness and love, standing for peace.

And then he follows them all.

The almost beautiful boy that Apollo's daughter met when she was twelve, angry at the world and desperate to find something, someone, to blame it upon. His anger gone, an amazing smile plastered upon his face that makes the Apollo girl weak in the knees, and he runs up to her, whirling her around and kissing her with passion and happiness.

As everyone celebrates, laughing and dancing around, the world seems to slow as the beautiful boy looks her in the face, those gorgeous blue eyes shining down at her, sparkling with the brightness that even her father cannot compete with.

"I love.." he gets to, before it all gets cut off by a loud beeping noise that you have come to know as your own personal smack in the face.

And you wake up.

Yeah, welcome to my life.

There has not been one night where I haven't dreamt of them, rejoicing in our 'victory'. Every night I see them, their faces so alight with happiness and love, arms around each other. All those who had been lost are alive again, Lee, Silena, Beckendorf, Castor, Michael, Ethan, Lore, ...Luke. They are celebrating, laughing together like there are no problems left, like we can go on with our lives and forget that this ever happened. More than anything, I want to join them, I truly, truly do.

For the first few months I did join them, I did dance and celebrate, allow myself for some stupid minute to think that it was real, that I could simply dance with the dead and forget about all the pain and suffering, if only for a few hours. But it killed me. Every single morning, I would wake up and drag myself out of bed, willing to the gods that it was real. Yet after a while, I stopped believing in it, I didn't join them. So when my friends called to me, laughing and asking me to dance with them, I simply shook my head sadly and stood away, content to simply watch them dance. They were alive in my dreams, but if I joined them, it just made it so much harder to wake up.

But I had to. I had people counting on me, and I couldn't simply lie there, however much I wanted to.

I still walk like I'm dreaming, even though the war has been over for nearly a year now. I only feel truly alive in my dreams, were my friends dance and laugh with me, celebrating a fake victory.

So, if anyone ever turns to you and says, "All's fair in Love and War", punch them hard across the face. They have no idea what they are talking about. Nothing is fair in War, that's simple bullshit. War is the most unfair, horrifying thing that anyone has ever had the misfortune to experience. And Love... all you have to do is take a look around Camp and see for yourself. Love is not fair either; it makes you feel light as air while it lasts, then throws you on the ground when it's done with you. Love and War may go hand in hand, but War isn't the product of love, people don't mourn and cry out of want for a battle.

People cry out from lost love, from those who fought in War, no matter what side they fought on.

All I have to do is close my eyes to see that.