I felt really guilty about half-abandoning this, and I couldn't concentrate on anything else. But I wasn't 100% inspired for this either. More like..92%?

If it shows, I'm sorry. But I hope you enjoy!

Lee was gone. Just like that. It was almost like a dream, Lee turning around and flashing him a grin, the giant's club coming down. And then, boom. All done. Game over. But the blood had been real. The sickening sound of bone cracking had been real.

And now Will was sitting on the floor in his cabin, back against his bed and knees drawn up to his chest, trying desperately to stop reliving the moment. His siblings were all at dinner. But he'd just not felt up to it.

He just couldn't see the point right now. He remembered how Lee had shown him around Camp, and the huge, welcoming smile on his face when Will had been claimed. He wouldn't ever forget that first time he'd belonged.

He'd cried after the funeral. Of course he hadn't let anybody see, but he'd cried like the time his mother was late to pick him up from school when he was four and he thought she'd forgotten him. He thought he'd never feel that lost ever again.

Will didn't want to admit it, but he wanted his mother. He wanted to hug her and sob, and feel her soft touch as she patted his back and told him not to worry. But he couldn't go to her now. First she'd faint when she learned her son had been in danger. Then she'd yell. And then she'd hold him by the shoulders and shake him silly before holding him close and telling him he was as irresponsible as his dad.

Will hauled himself to his feet and dragged himself to the trunk at the foot of his bed. Pushing it open, he retrieved the pad of paper on top and flopped down on the bed.

The pad was filled with his neat handwriting. Writing letters to his father when he felt…untethered like this was strangely comforting. Being a demigod, the feeling was all too familiar. Pages upon pages that Will had never read again, all stuffed with words he was too embarrassed to even look at.

And yet he always wrote. It was the only was he felt even a semblance of closeness to his father.

Dear Dad
I hope you've noticed how I've stopped putting the quotes around the 'dear'. I'm still not sure what to think about you, but you're loads better than Aphrodite, even if you're just as concerned about your looks.

Dad, do you ever watch us? Not when we're fighting and stuff, like on a normal day? Do you watch us practising on the archery range? And during the battles in the arena? Well, actually I wouldn't mind if you don't watch then. The Ares cabin always thrashes us. It's your fault. We're only good at long range.

But seriously, do you? I'm not sure if I want you to. Because, well, you just don't seem the type to…care? I'm sorry if that seems harsh, bur you have to admit, it's true.

And if you are watching, then were you when Lee died? He's your son, isn't he? Don't you care about him? What am I saying? Everything about Lee is in past tense now. Couldn't you have saved him? I mean, you are a god after all.

Wait, I know, I know. Ancient laws, right?

I'm sorry. That was a bit rude. I just really need someone to talk to. Michael wouldn't understand. Kayla's too young. The others im not really close to. Don't get me wrong, I'd trust them with my life, but they're all younger than me. They're less experienced.

I need someone who's...you know, an old hand. I'm never going to send this letter, but rambling with words like this distracts me. It makes things not seem so bad.

Sometimes I think about how awesome it would be if I could talk to you like a real dad. I'm not saying I want to go to baseball games with you. But maybe a little father-son talk? I'm just torturing myself, thinking like this. You're a god; I'm just a half-blood.

I think you're one of the better Olympians. Sure, you're vain, selfish and irresponsible. But you claim your kids even before they do something heroic/suicidal. You make us feel wanted. We think you care.

Let me ask you a question. If you could, would you protect us? Like a regular dad? Not from bullies and things we can take care of ourselves; but when we face insurmountable odds. When we're frightened, staring death in the face. When we're so scared we feel like giving up and sobbing.

Would you?

There was a knock on the cabin door. Will panicked and stuffed the pad under his pillow. He sat tense, until the voice of his little half sister Kayla called through the door.

"Will?"

"Yeah?"

"Aren't you hungry?" She sounded concerned and a little apprehensive.

"No. Go back to dinner, Kayla."

There was a shuffling sound. Will could see Kayla's shadow under the door.

"We're worried, Will." She said after a long pause.

Will bit his lip. They would be, wouldn't they? Michael was probably in way over his head in his new position as head counsellor. The guy always had his back, even if he was an annoying little weasel. It would be tasteless of him to not even consider helping out, just a little.

"I'll be there in a minute, Kayla. Go on."

Kayla sounded considerably happier. "All right!"

Will watched her shadow move away, making sure she was gone before turning his attention back to the pad.

You don't have to answer that, I guess. And I can't make you. But if you want to know, we think you would. I know Zeus probably wouldn't like to hear it, but I noticed how easy the healing was after the battle. Like I'd gotten stronger. But it's not wishful thinking, right? You were helping.

Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Not even my brothers and sister. Unless you want me to, of course, but I don't think you will.

I guess what I'm trying to say is: thank you for acknowledging us. Thank you for being a dad, even if it's only rarely. Thank you.

Sincerely,
Will.

Sincerely. He meant it this time.