This world belongs to Rick Riordan.
AN: This will probably be the end of this little two-shot. Also sorry for any stuff ups, or confusing parts. Thanks to ScarletGuardian for doing the final edit.
The world; happy, friendly, opportunistic and boundless, not to him. To him the world was so fake, so deceiving and most importantly so chained. No one knew that they were chained though, they lived happily in the delusion that they were free. They would likely believe they were free forever. That's just how excellent the world was at tricking them. They would never know.
He did though.
And the knowledge haunted him during every waking hour.
There had been a time when he hadn't seen past the deceptions, he had been carefree and happy. It had all changed the day when he went on a quest to save the goddess in chains. When Bianca had died he realised how many expectations people had. Nico expected him to be an amazing hero, capable of protecting his sister. Bianca expected him to be an awesome adopted brother who would save her no matter what she did. Even Chiron had expected him to miraculously save Bianca and fulfil the prophecy.
They were all disappointed even if they never said it, all of them except for her.
The look on her face when he told her about Bianca's death had intrigued him. She seemed sad for a moment before immediately becoming accepting. Almost as if she refused to grieve or even feel sadness. Almost as if she refused to be weak. Though the reason her reaction was so surprising wasn't what she felt, but rather what she didn't. She didn't blame him, even though she had every right to. She didn't seem disappointed that he couldn't save Bianca. She didn't even seem to feel any scorn for him, despite being a renowned man-hating goddess. She seemed almost as if she was dead. Emotionally dead. That was when he realised he wasn't the only one who saw the chains. Artemis could see the chains too. She too was chained.
The goddess in chains.
He remembered when he had been younger, his mom used to bake blue cookies for him to make him happy. He used to love them just like how he used to idolise heroes, how he used to wish he had special powers. Oh, how utterly foolish of him. He hadn't realised how glamourized the life of a hero was. He hadn't seen how childish blue cookies were. He hadn't seen how much agony and misfortune special powers brought upon their bearers.
He wished desperately that he could have seen how silly those dreams were. He wished he could turn back time and redo everything, now that he knew he had made all the wrong decisions. If only he could change it all. He couldn't though and he knew it.
He felt like breaking down and crying now. He felt like destroying their illusion of the perfect hero. For the first time in his life he felt understanding for Luke. Luke was the older brother, the best friend, the sword genius and the hero. He would bet all he had that Luke had joined Kronos to break the façade, rather than some petty attention seeking needs. He commended Luke, in fact he wanted to do what Luke did. He wanted to throw it all away.
But he couldn't, so instead he did what he had done when he realised how childish blue cookies were.
He pretended.
He pretended that everything was fine and just super-duper.
After all, if he didn't fake it his mother would be disappointed in him.
His mother who had been there for him for everything. His perfect mother, the one who made everything blue just because he wanted it. His kind mother who put up with an idiotic man who gambled nearly all their money away just so he would be safe. His amazing mother that put up with him constantly running of into life threatening situations at the whims of a mummy in an attic.
Anyway, even if he tried to break the pretence they would never let him leave. They would never let him destroy their picture perfect scenes. Their beautiful entertainment. The gods were like that, always demanding for stereotypes. Even Luke was forced to conform to something he wasn't. He wasn't an attention seeker, he was a person with too many expectations placed upon his shoulders.
So he tried hard to smile when they offered him godhood and refused. Feeling sick for acting so heroic. How dare they offer him godhood when it was Luke who killed Kronos? How dare they pointedly ignore those minor gods? How dare they shun everyone else except for their heroes? He felt a slight sense of satisfaction when he said 'no' to them.
He was genuinely surprised that he wasn't dying when he shouted to her his fake reasons for refusing godhood. The pain felt real enough. He wished he could erase from his memory the turbulent emotions that flashed across her face before it became blank once more.
His mouth tasted like ash when he kissed Annabeth.
After all, Annabeth could never be her.
He did feel guilty for lying to Annabeth though, and it wasn't a lot but he had felt something for Annabeth. However, those feelings had just been a simple crush that have long since faded. What he felt when dealing with her was different. No matter how much he wanted to though he could never be with her. The gods wouldn't allow it. The only one he was allowed to love was Annabeth.
But Annabeth was just a substitute for her.
He had many regrets in life, a testament of his many mistakes. However, after these 2 and a half months with Annabeth he had a massive regret. He regretted not standing up in Olympus and telling the gods that he loved her. He regretted not immediately finding her after the rewards ceremony and telling her everything. Most of all, he regretted crushing her.
Crushing her hope.
Razing her dreams.
Destroying her chances to be free.
After all, he had seen her. Just as she had seen him. He was sure that she had felt the same emotions. The emotions he still felt for her. He knew she had felt elated when she saw there was another who could see the chains, who desired to be free, to live. He knew this because he had felt it when he saw her.
He had hoped.
She had hoped.
That maybe, just maybe they could free themselves from their dead, despondent world. He couldn't though. He was chained by his mother and the Olympians. She couldn't either. She was chained by her inner fears and the Olympians.
So together they continued to lie, deceive and fake their lives. They were the ones who could see the chains that the world was bound in. They were the ones forced to go through a monotone torture.
They would never be free from their chains.
It was impossible.