I know you don't want to read a long excuse about why I took a hiatus, so I'll just do the disclaimer and you get the story.
Percy: She owns nothing. Feel terrible, Uncle Rick. Feel terrible.
Oh, by the way, I'm going to try out Thalia or Nico POV next chapter, so review and tell me which one you'd rather see. I'll try to do all the character's POV soon, after I get out of this drama-filled stage of the story.
(PS: I hate writing drama. Especially when tears are involved.)
Percy POV
"You have one question," I muttered, fiddling with a loose thread on the edge of my shirt. "One minute to decide. Go."
"You suck," Thalia teased. "I call this one. No, Nico, you got the first one, so I get this -"
"But you took the second one! How come you get to get all the questions? This is so freaking unfair!" Nico hissed, careful not to wake the whole house up by shrieking that it wasn't fair. And now I sound like I'm describing a fight between toddlers that want the teddy bear. Great.
"Yeah, well, I'm threatening you with a broken leg if you don't let me have this question," Thalia said evenly, cracking her knuckles. "Want to fight?"
"Both of you shut up. I feel the pain of the poor kindergarten teachers who have to break up fights between two-year-olds," I snapped, somehow managing to rip the loose thread in half. "Seriously."
"We're not two!" Thalia and Nico said at the same time.
"Yeah, well, I'm guessing you have the brains of a two-year-old. So sit down - wait, don't sit - keep standing, and calmly talk it out in the corner. And throw a few punches if you have to. I'll get the popcorn." I said, shooing them away with my hands. "Go. Discuss it nicely in the corner. Fight if you have to."
A few minutes later, Thalia and Nico came back and asked simultaneously, "What's your favorite food?"
"Are you kidding?" I asked, arching an eyebrow at them. "You two came in here for the sole purpose of asking me about my life, and now you're asking me what my favorite food is?"
"Answer the freaking question," Nico ordered. "Be grateful it isn't something like, 'How did your parents die?'"
And from that sentence spawned a million different thoughts and memories that I did not want to go back to, thank you very much. From the expression that crossed over Nico's face, I could tell he had seen the small meltdown.
"Favorite food is blue cookies, out, both of you, now," I muttered, trying desperately to keep my voice from breaking. "Shoo. Go. Before I have to throw you through the door."
They both left, Thalia shooting me a curious glance over her shoulder before stepping out. I closed the door as soon as her heel cleared the doorway and leaned against it, barely managing to regulate my breathing. In, out. In, out.
"You are fine," I whispered to myself, curling my hands tightly over my ears and squeezing my eyes shut to block out the room. "You are fine and you are not going to break down again and you will not do it you will not stopstopstop right now you are fine you are fine you are fine!" My voice rose steadily until I was nearly shouting. Damn.
And of course all the screaming and shrieking and stuff (that mostly came from me) brought the whole house running to my room. Footsteps pounded on the wood and, thankfully, I had enough sense to reach out and lock the door, before stumbling back to my bed and looking for the knife again.
And then I realized Annabeth had slipped it into her back pocket.
Damn.
With nothing to control it, the panic attack grew to a scale I have literally never, in all my sixteen years of life, and I mean never, experienced before in my life.
-blood pooling from the stab wound, light fading from blue eyes, shuddering breaths, hot teartracks, crying, pain, guilt-
-whimpering, agony, cruel yellow smile, brown eyes glinting sharply with hate, nightmares, panic attacks, hyperventilating, blood on the floor, why is there blood, leering, hisses, promises to hurt, pain, agony, promises, promises-
-had enough, slamming the door, cold air, tears, wondering, should I go back? no, not going back, running off, feet pounding on pavement, deep breaths, don't fall asleep, guard, don't let down your guard-
-torn away, can't make friends, push away, can't take it, loss, guilt, pain, mourning, crying, reaching out, can't help me, help myself, can't help myself, have to help myself, can'tcan'tcan't-
"Percy?" The voice jolted me back from the memories that were pulling me down, crowding my head, couldn't think, my gods how do I stop them, so many voices, so many coming at once and how do I control it can't control it!
"Help," I whispered unconsciously, digging my fingernails into the skin behind my ears. Squeezing my eyes shut, burning hot liquid at the backs of my eyes. How, I wondered, could there still be tears left in my body after all the crying I had done? I had probably cried more in the last six hours than the last two years.
But why?
Was it because of Annabeth, Annabeth and her golden hair and the way she smiled. I liked that smile, even though I'd never admit it. I liked the way her gray eyes flashes and I liked the way she stuck out her lower lip when I teased her, or insulted her, and the way her cheeks turned red with anger when I had called her 'Blondie.'
Was it because of how Aphrodite treated me? And cared about what happened to me, cared enough to tell all her foster kids about it, cared enough to make me cookies, and even they'd never replace blue cookies, they were still cookies.
Was it simply because I was getting weaker? Had my masks finally worn out?
Or was it the feeling of finally having a family?
It's the fourth one, a tiny voice in my head whispered. That's what you want. You want a family.
Shut up, I growled back. I am fine on my own and I do not need a family. What's a family?
Don't lie to yourself.
Don't you just hate it when the tiny little voice in your head starts acting up when you're trying to have a serious drama queen moment? I know I do. Because, surprise surprise, it just happened. Yay.
Bleh. Done. Can't. Write. More. Or else I will die and this story will never be finished
Octavian: Thank goodness. This story is terrible
Me: *burns all of his teddy bears and various stuffed animals* Say that again.
Octavian: *stares at ashes of teddy bears* NOOOOOOO!
I had to do that sorry
