Lean on Me

By the time everyone was ready to actually walk to the Pavilion, I'd lost my appetite. Seriously, whoever decided that one needs to polish their eyebrows for ten minutes before eating breakfast? Luke Castellan, that's who!

Anyway, I instead left to check the border, too tired – despite the early hour – to deal with his usual antics. Good thing I wasn't feeling very hungry anyway. Maybe I'd sneak a muffin or a bagel later. Also, the cereal. I could eat that.

After lapping the entirety of the camp three times, I figured breakfast would be over, so I wouldn't have to worry about avoiding passing the Dining Pavilion. Unfortunately, I wanted to head back to the cabin, and I'd run into my teammates there.

"Didn't think of that one, did you?"

I ignored him. There was some business I had to take care of, so I couldn't not do it. The grass fell easily under my boots on the way over, seeing as there was no well-worn path. The cabin was fairly easy to spot, even from the depths of the forest – a fair warning to any monster, as its appearance and aura were intimidating. The cabin promised the demise of all those with malevolent intent.

With a quick nod to the others, I entered and strode into my private quarters, closing and locking the door behind me. Personal stuff is personal. If something happened, the others could take care of it. Sitting on the bed, I removed my mask, hanging it on the hook. My face was stiff, and I opened my mouth wide, squeezing my eyes shut to stretch it.

"I'm so glad Chaos and Order made the mask 'sweatless' or whatever they want to call it," Crypt said softly.

"You don't even have to wear the mask!" I replied, utterly confused as to the point of his comment.

"Hey! We can still feel everything you do! Well, unless we're off in our own world, of course – but most of the time, existing is existing! We are you, just not in control. It sucks," Tile protested.

"No privacy, huh? Well, maybe you shouldn't have bonded with me in the first place!" I shouted back. For some reason, my body felt the need to stand to have this argument, even though it was in my head. It's probably one of those things where you have to look angry to be able to be angry. "And for that matter, stop complaining! You do have control. Like, whenever you damn well feel like it!"

"Ha, ha… Dam!" Tile chuckled.

I sighed, smacking myself in the face with some small hope that he'd feel it. "I should've never told you about that…" I whispered aloud to the empty room. Deciding that it was better to ignore them – well, mostly Tile and his terrible jokes – I crossed the room and opened the bottom-most drawer of my wardrobe. Sadly, Chaos would not allow me to put a portal in the back of it, no matter how many times I asked, so I was stuck making tiny portals in the drawers, which would only activate when I was the one opening them. Take what you can get, right?

My hands briefly disappeared into the black emptiness and returned clasping a small wooden box. It was somewhat reminiscent of a treasure chest due to my sentimental ideals – as well as my childhood fantasy of being a pirate, but really what child doesn't want to be a pirate at one point or another? – and what was within reflected that. It was my real treasure, no, not old or jewels, or even an old map, yellowed by time and faded in the light.

Unclasping the brass lock, I lifted the lid. Inside was a stack of photos. Just photos. None-moving, beautiful, wonderful memories for those times that my mind was too full to be filled with. They contained locked pieces of happiness from those days I spent with my parents.

There was one I lifted to examine: my mother in her new red, white and blue Sweet on America outfit, a bag full of blue candy in her hands. She looked so proud of herself because I'd been able to sneak the picture while Gabe was in the background, watching TV with his usual sneer, oblivious to all but the glaring square of light.

Grief wrapped around my heart in an unyielding fist. I wanted to see my mother again. Like, really wanted to. Unshed tears hugged close to my eyes like climbers, fearful of the descent but were equally ready to take the leap down the cliffside of my face and freefall to the padded carpet beneath my feet.

I kept shuffling and reshuffling the pictures between my fingers. I'd seen them thousands of time, and I knew that all I was doing was wearing them out, but I couldn't stop myself. It was like my whole life flashing before my eyes – quite literally in this case – and it all ended that one day.

Finally, what got me to stop wasn't the usual. It was a hand on my arm and my opposite shoulder. It was the weight of a body sitting down on the bed next to me, silent as a mouse, but very noticeable in presence. I felt the softness of a handkerchief pressed against my cheek, the fabric saving some of my more suicidal tears for the long drop to the floor.

I looked up.

It was Hester.

"How-how d-d-did you get in h-here? It was l-locked."

She smiled but didn't say anything, to my question nor my sob-induced hiccoughing.

"Shhh," she said instead, wrapping her arms around me. Zoë has perfectly slipped into eh Big Sister role of our group. She had to, of course, as the boys were big crybabies underneath – myself included – though we tried not to show it, and of course there was her part to play in the hunters when she was still alive. The first time, of course. She's alive now, too, but this is a different alive.

"Zoë…I miss them," I told her, mournful cries breaking up my words, "I miss them so much! I just… I just… can't let it go! I want to let it go! Let them go! I want to let them have a peaceful afterlife! Mourning them this way only pulls their spirits away from Elysium. I need to accept it, but I can't! It's been years! Centuries! But I can't!"

I felt weak, saying this to her – pouring my heart out, but this was Zoë, so I felt the need to. She was always the best at comforting people, and though she wasn't the person I really needed, deep down, she was still one of the people I knew I could rely on for when I broke down lie this.

Once I had cried and cried until no more tears would come, I spoke. "I think it's time you and the others know what happened before my death," I said to her. My voice was cracking with raw emotion, no more or less than before I'd begun my sobbing, but this time, with purpose, determination in my words.

She nodded, and, as if waiting for this, whistled. The door opened – despite being locked! – and the others walked in silently, took their seats in various sit-able and un-sit-able places around the room. Then, as the shuffling feet and rustling clothes stopped, I became aware of the many pairs of eyes that focused on me, concerned and curious.

"So, Percy… You wanted to talk to us? I mean, I just assume that's what Zoë's summons was about. She came in here and then your soundproofing kicked in until she whistled, which by the way, is the weirdest sound you decided to be the only-sound-to-come-through-the-soundproofing-sound," Luke said, almost in one breath, It was quite impressive, actually, and if the mood had been different, I was sure that myself and the other boys would be applauding him on his effort.

"Yeah…" I said. My breath caught a little, but it wasn't nearly as bad as earlier. I silently sent a prayer to Crypt and Tile for the strength to get through what I was about to say.

"Don't worry, brother. We support you and we will help you."

I forced a watery grin, took a deep breath, and began to speak.