Music of the Gods

Stories by UndeniablyMe

A/n: Went and saw the Percy Jackson movie and got back into the 'groove', if you will, of Percy Jackson stories. Loved the movie, even if it was way different from the book, but still love the books more. And so, in honor of the awesome books that Rick Riordan created for us, here's this little angst fest for ya'll.

More chat at the bottom. For now, enjoy!

UndeniablyMe ;)

Unwell- Matchbox Twenty

"I'm sorry Pollux."

"He'll rest in peace."

"He was a worthy hero."

"I'm so sorry."

Pollux nodded as the people walked by him but said nothing, eyes firmly fixed on the burning flames, replaying the anguish he felt when he had learned that his brother had fallen over and over in his mind and wondering how he could have prevented it. If he had moved faster, would he have been able to push his brother out of the way? If he had been a good fighter… would his brother still be alive? If he had stayed at Pollux's side, would he still be alive? The ifs were going to drive him mad.

"Pollux, he won't feel any pain anymore."

"He died a hero's death."

"There's no other way he'd rather go."

To Hades with all of their words of intended comfort, they did nothing for him. It didn't matter how many people told him I'm sorry. It wouldn't bring back his brother. It couldn't bring him back. As if they knew what it was like to lose someone who was more than a friend, more than a brother. As if they knew how it was to wake up, alone, in your cabin with no one else there. His brother hadn't died; the better part of himself had.

And nobody—not one of those idiots back at the camp—knew what it was like to lose a piece of your soul. Pollux was more than just Castor's brother. He was a part of him.

He held his head in his hands, kneeling down next to a stump of a tree that had been burned in the battle. Was it by this tree that his brother had fallen? He didn't know anymore. The pain had been too much to deal with and he'd passed out. Why had he woken up when his brother had not? Why hadn't his father cared enough to intervene? What was the purpose of being an all powerful god of Olympus if he couldn't even protect his son?

The sobs ripped through him. Memories of going to school with Castor, before they'd discovered the camp, assaulted him. No one had wanted to be friends with them because they were different, dangerous. Castor had been his only friend. Castor was the only one who talked to him. No one even remembered who he was without his twin by his side.

And now he was gone.

"It will be alright. The pain will go away with time."

"Don't cry, Pollux, you're going to be okay."

"Pollux… it'll be okay…"

"Pollux."

The sound of someone's voice brought him back to reality, beyond the dark waters he'd been drowning in.

He looked up and wiped his cheeks quickly, ashamed to be found crying and saw a girl from the Athena cabin. She was the constant companion to Percy Jackson—the reigning hero of Camp Half-Blood. Her face and arms had scratches down them and her hair looked slightly singed but she was still as commanding and intimidating with her stormy gray eyes that traveled over him sadly. She was exactly how he imagined the goddess of wisdom would look; the splitting image. But he didn't want wisdom. H wanted his brother. Was there a god or goddess of do-overs that he could talk to get his brother back?

"Pollux?" Her voice sounded again and it was like a slap to his face, bringing him back one more.

He paused for a moment. Pollux. Yes, that was his name, wasn't it?

"Hullo…" What was her name? Athena? Annabell? No. "Annabeth."

He couldn't force much emotion into his words and the girl sighed, sitting down beside him. He couldn't bear to look at her for a long while. If she had words of wisdom to impart to him she'd just have to hit the road. He didn't want philosophy to comfort him or empty promises. He wanted it to all be over.

Was it too much to ask that he would be struck dead too?

The daughter of Athena and the son of Dionysus sat in silence for a long while and for once, Pollux didn't feel like snapping and telling her to go away. Her presence was soothing but exactly why he wasn't sure. So long as she didn't bother him with hollow words of comfort he wouldn't mind. He didn't need her phony bits of wisdom.

But, as he knew, her silence didn't last forever. She breathed in, and out, and then she spoke.

"I know you don't want to hear it Pollux, but I am sorry." Pollux looked over to the daughter of Athena who was staring up at the stars, no emotion prevalent on her features. "It's hard when one of our number passes on to another place where we can't follow. It hurts deep inside, where no matter how good the healer, none can ever truly make better."

He was silent, taking in what she was saying, before shivering. It was wisdom, what she was giving to him. She turned the full force of her wisdom burning eyes on him and he felt frozen as she fixed him with her gaze, never blinking or looking away.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

There was a pause. So, she was just like everyone else. She wanted to lecture him, to tell him that it would be alright.

"Sorry won't bring him back," he spat at her, turning away. "Telling me you're sorry doesn't do anything for me."

And, all of a sudden, he was beyond angry. He leapt to his feet and turned on her, his hands balling into fists. Her best friend, Percy Jackson, was being celebrated as a hero. He had come back to her, after two weeks of supposedly being dead. She didn't, couldn't, know the pain that was a cyclone inside of him, erasing all of him all at once.

No one did. Anger blinded him.

"All of you are the same!" he roared, picking up a huge rock and throwing it as far as he could. It shattered against a bigger boulder. Is that how his brother had shattered—had fallen? "You act like you know, act like you care. You don't know what's inside!! You don't know how I feel! He's gone. He's not coming back! I'm alone and there's no one anywhere on this whole stupid earth that can understand how I feel! My. Brother. Is. Gone. Don't give me your wisdom and don't give me your pity! It won't bring him back. He's GONE!!!"

He stared at her, chest heaving, and she stared right back. Her eyes were like thunder clouds, threatening lightning, and he stared back. So be it. What could she do? What powers did she have? Wisdom? Pwah. He could strangle her with vines in a moment. If she made the wrong move he'd do it. He'd… he'd…

"I've had losses too, you know," she answered in a remarkably controlled voice. "And it's hurt just as much as yours."

"What would you know?" he snapped back. His fingers flexed and he could feel the vines, the life force in the earth, itching to grow. "Everyone you've ever lost has come back to you."

Her eyes flashed dangerously and he winced but did nothing to take back his words. Her hand found its way to the knife on her belt and he knew, without having to be told, that if he made a move to hurt her that knife could be lodged in his body before anything else could happen. He'd see Castor again…

"No brother. There's another way."

And then, her eyes softened. She let go of the knife and she sighed.

"No, not everyone." She let the statement hang in the air before turning away. "And saying I'm sorry isn't suppose to make your brother come back Pollux. It's meant to tell you that this, in your time of loss, you are not alone. The Camp was behind me in my losses to support me, and we'll be there for you. All you have to do is reach out."

And with that she walked back up the path, meeting halfway with a concerned looking Percy Jackson. Jackson seemed to ask her a question and she brushed him off easily. His hand touched her shoulder for a second in a comforting gesture and then they moved on. Both fell into step with one another and made their way up to the camp. Pollux watched them go and his heart ached.

But what that girl had said made some kind of sense, even if he didn't want it to. He wasn't alone. He never would be. In losing Castor he had thought he'd lost a part of himself too. And, in a way, he had. But there were still things to be done.

So wisdom had found its way into his heart after all.

"Pollux. It will be okay. You have to let me go."

He curled his fingers in and felt the life force of the earth. He drew upon it, pulled softly and tenderly, the little shoots of vines that lay beneath. They curled out of the earth and burst forth with fruit. The smell reminded him of days spent, lazily, with Castor and contests on who could make the sweetest grapes.

"Let me go, Pollux. Let me go."

He clenched his fist. The vines choked and died and the withered fruit fell to the earth. A single tear found its way down his face and onto the ground, in the dry dirt. Wisdom said, no matter how many times he killed that vine, with a little bit of care and help it would always come back to bear forth fruit. It will be okay.

"Wait for me brother," Pollux answered softly. More tears came. His trials weren't over yet. He still had a ways to go. "I'm going to move forward, but I'll never forget you."

He touched the life force again, the place from where he drew his power, and for a moment it was almost as if Castor was there, pulling with him.

"I'm waiting, Pollux. I'm waiting."

A/n: Wow. Now that was thoroughly depressing. But a little hopeful at the end, no? This one-shot is long overdue and is in response to Avalonfreak who mentioned in one of her first reviews that she'd like to see something like this. Avalon, I seriously have written down pretty much all of your ideas and have them lined up to do more one-shots. Thanks for all the support and great reviews! Oh, and believeinthegods. I went back and reread both of your people's reviews and it made me smile.

And, for any of you who have ideas of characters you'd like to see, drop me a review and let me know!! I promise the next update will come faster than this one. Until then, demi-gods ;)

UndeniablyMe ;)

EDIT: I feel like such an idiot. I switched the names around the first time I posted, so here it is fixed. That's what I get for posting late at night I suppose... :)