I had finally made it out of that hellhole. Out of literal hell. Out of burning flames and endless pain and complete misery and suffering.

And I had immediately been shoved into glassware.

I felt so closed in. I was so closed in. I only had so much air in this airtight vase. But maybe I would get rescued? No, aside from Hazel, who'd want to rescue me?

Nobody knew me except Hazel, Annabeth, and Percy, and Annabeth hardly counted, as she knew me so loosely.

So it was Hazel and Percy.

Hazel, of course, would demand her brother's rescue. My rescue. Percy, though? I had previously had so many ulterior motives. The Styx, for instance. He hated me.

Additionally, I had lied to him about us knowing each other. And surely, he had regained his memories by this point.

I had, of course, the seeds. Those damned seeds. Enough for- what, a few days, tops? The seeds for food, death trance for air. I was a goner, though. It wasn't going to be enough. I wasn't going to be enough. I was never enough.

I started saying my mental goodbyes.

Goodbye Hazel. I'm sorry I was such an awful brother. And that I kept calling you Bianca. And that I abandoned you like that. And that I never told you I was gay. I'm sorry.

Goodbye Percy. I'm sorry that I was such a coward. That I betrayed you several times. I'm sorry I never will tell you I never hated you. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm-

I was on the ground. Trying to stand. I thought... I heard mentions of Wonder Bread? I tried not to groan but it was so hard. I was somewhat sure that two giants were engaging with some demigods, that a battle was approaching.

A girl was dragging me away. And when I could finally see, I could tell that she was no one I knew. I whipped my head around towards the fighting.

Percy. And Jason. Both here, fighting together. Hera's plan worked. I couldn't believe it actually worked. That the Greeks knew of the Romans, and vice versa. I wasn't the only one, now.

I wasn't special now.

The Argo II was a strange place to be. They only had eight cabins; one for each of the seven, and one for Coach Hedge. I could have slept with Hazel, possibly. But both of us were a bit too old fashioned for that.

Besides, I could hardly sleep after Tartarus. I spent my nights curled up in the crow's nest, trying, and failing, and quite honestly probably waking half of Europe from my nightmares. Other nights, I got an almost full four hours, communicating and walking through dreams.

But no sleep ever lasted long, and with that I realized Leo wasn't sleeping much either.

Long nights of him working on Festus, myself occasionally speaking, and we grew closer.

Even after Annabeth and Percy fell into Tartarus, I refused to take up a cabin. I could hardly sleep in Percy's; I'd bet there were pictures of him and Annabeth. Of him with friends. And I didn't trust myself to not get jealous. To not get over him.

And everyone seemed very catious talking about Annabeth to me; they tiptoed around it. As if they- they thought I was jealous of her? Did they know? Did they think I liked her?

Which made the final battle so much worse.

It was mostly a blur; my near collapse upon the final shadow travel, hijacking the catapults, fighting next to Jason, Will running over. Touching my arm. Leaning in. Whispering. "Octavian."

My eyes immediately finding the pale blond git. He was at the catapult. I lovked eyes with Will and we ran.

Will trying to stop him. A memory, bubbling up. Some deaths are meant to occur. So I stopped Will from telling Octavian what everyone else knew; that he would fly with the missile.

Watching him fling up into the sky, cringing at the morbid end I knew he would meet.

Realizing what I neglected to calculate. He was headed straight for Gaea.

Straight for Leo.

It didn't matter that, in the end, it had to be either him or Jason. It still hurt.

And it was my fault.

And I felt the snap of their lives ending. Like a tight rope snapping apart. And I sobbed later.

I locked myself away; no one would want to see me. Not Jason and Piper, who Will surely informed on the true means of Leo's demise. Not Will himself, who truly would hate me for allowing that awful end for Octavian. Not Percy, who Jason must've told about my crush on.

No one.

No one.

I was alone. So, truly alone. Except Jason wanted me to stay. And Percy didn't care all that much that I was gay. And Annabeth outright gave me a high five when I came out. And Will seemed to still be able to see me without instantly hating me.But I was still despised, or at least despisable. Right? They were just too nice to outright hate me.

If Jason and Piper knew how my tongue tasted like poison everytime I assured them yes, Leo was dead, then they would hate me.

If Percy knew how deeply and truly I really did like him, before I moved on, he would see how much he should and would hate me.

If Annabeth knew how much I cursed her after Bianca's death, that, in my wild search for people to blame, I once chose her, briefly, then she would hate me.

I wondered if any of the curses I spat to her or Percy, even if they weren't present, ever came to them in Tartarus.

And then I hated me.

I hated people.

I hated how their emotions and socializing got my head circling.

They got my head circling.