AN: Hi so uhh, I fucked up. I updated this over at AO3 early may, and I genuinely thought I'd updated this here as well, but obviously I did not. I'm really sorry about that, I didn't mean to forget to update this here, and yet, I really am fucking sorry.

And yeah, I KNOW I said it wouldn't take me more than two months and it has been four (even if that last one was an accident) instead but well shit happens. Uni is hard, and it so happens that even the first semester of med school brings a huge load of work, and it doesn't help that I started reading the AFTG series, and I truly fell down a hole in a massive hyperfixation :) It's almost embarrassing how obsessed I am, but what can I say, I love the Foxes. Good thing though! I have finals next week, and then I will have so so much more time, but give me a while, I'm really fucking exhausted, so I'll take some time to rest a bit :)

But anyway, about the chapter, HUGE trigger warning for self harm, intrusive thoughts, suicidal thoughts, depression and panic attacks, talks of suicide of a minor character, and just trauma all around. I'm really sorry, this one's really angsty, but I hope you like it. Nothing too explicit, but beware of everything from "A sharp sting in his hand made him hiss." to "And done, everything looked pristine." for the self harm warning. Stay safe.

"So scrape up the bruise I wear

And eradicate all my fear

But planning to walk these stairs

I don't know what my future is

I don't know what my future is"

Palace, Heaven Up There

Chapter 12: Silence Gives You Space

Silence.

Not cold silence that's so uncomfortable it makes you fidget and squirm. Not awkward silence. He didn't think he could compare it to anything or even describe it, because Percy had never experienced that kind of silence. So thick no knife in the world would cut through it. So full of emotions it was unbearable, overwhelming. It felt like a physical pressure on top of his body, as if it was trying to squash him. He couldn't really breathe, and the worst part is that the only thing he had to feel was surprise because it wasn't even his silence that was trying to tear him apart.

He wasn't even sure the rest felt the same way he did, but he couldn't stand the negative energy in the room, and he didn't know how to let anyone know that if it got any worse he would actually pass out.

Why the fuck was it affecting him so damn much anyway-

"I'm sorry, what? Did you just say- what?"

Thank every god and being out there for Nico di Angelo.

In hindsight the silence wasn't so bad, since in a fraction of a second, the silence turned to crystal and shattered in a million pieces.

Percy didn't even register a word being said, it was too much. Objectively, he knew it can't have been more than Nico, Hazel and Jason speaking, maybe also Annabeth or Luke or Leo, but he couldn't be sure. It was just way too much, too loud, and he was in danger, and Gabe must be near, he was going to hurt him-

"Percy, Percy, hey", gentle hands grabbed his sweaty ones, and concerned eyes floated in front of him, but it was all blurry, and all he felt was fear, even if he knew the hands and eyes belonged to someone safe, "Can you look at me? Can you hear me?"

He wasn't sure he answered, or what kind of answer he gave if he did answer. But the hands left his, and soon he was standing up and someone was leading him somewhere, but his brain caught up too late, he was still in danger, where was he going-

"Percy, take a deep breath, you need to breathe, it's Luke."

Luke. Luke? It can't have been Luke. Gabe was near. Luke can't be in the same place as Gabe, that didn't make sense.

"Perce, you're safe, you're okay, you need to focus on breathing, no one is here to hurt you, you just gotta breathe, we're safe here."

It's Luke. Luke is safe. Luke won't hurt you.

He drew in ragged breaths, gasping as he desperately tried to get oxygen into his lungs. He choked around tears and breaths, but with Luke's help and comforting words he managed to breathe relatively normal eventually.

"Easy now, how are you feeling?" Luke asked softly, voice so gentle it brought tears to Percy's eyes all over again. It was such a contrast to the overwhelming noise of arguing and shouts, it made him overly emotional and sensitive. "Hey, hey, what's wrong?"

He had to clear his throat and force himself to look down, blinking away the tears "N-nothing, I'm sorry, I'm okay, I'm just-" tired, I'm so so tired and done with everything, I can't deal with any more shit, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- you know, I-"

"It's okay Perce, you're okay I promise, you really don't have to apologize for this, this is none of your fault." Luke put his hands on Percy's shoulders, making him look up suddenly. He could never get tired of the blue of Luke's eyes, more so now that they were gleaming with genuineness and care. In all honesty, them enough were able to take his breath away. He felt at a loss of words, he wasn't even sure he could think. They were so close all of a sudden, he exhaled loudly, he couldn't focus on anything but Luke in front of him, eyes wide with surprise…

Until everything was gone in an instant. Luke blinked once, twice, and he withdrew his hands, recoiling as if he'd been burnt, folding his arms in front of his torso instead, as he took a step back and looked away.

There was no way, no words to describe the coldness that passed Percy, like a wave washing him under the riptide. It felt like a loss. As if he'd lost contact and feeling all the same. He crossed his arms, holding himself tightly, and stared at the floor.

Was he imagining things? Was he honestly fooling himself? He'd never felt like this with anyone else, and he could have sworn he wasn't the only one, but was he just making it up?

Was he the only one falling down a hole with no exit, while the other looked down on him with pity…? Was he the only one feeling this?

This is exactly why he didn't want to let himself feel anything towards anyone in the first place. This is why he wanted to avoid all of this. And he failed.

Luke cleared his throat, "Here, drink some water."

Percy didn't even hear or notice him moving away, but he numbly accepted the glass handed to him, "Thanks."

"How are you feeling? Have you actually eaten anything besides that orange you were picking at earlier?" Luke, always the moving on kind of guy, said.

He contemplated everything for a minute, deciding that dwelling on his thoughts wasn't the best thing to do at the moment, unless he wanted to really break down and feel even worse, "I'm better now, thanks, and yeah, I ate something earlier."

"Really? You look pale, what did you eat?"

"Yes, really, we should get back before the others worry, I think I wanna go rest anyway."

Not even waiting for an answer, Percy turned around and walked out the kitchen, almost regretting it as he took in the tension of everything. He almost forgot what the issue at hand was, but Nico, Jason and Hazel's expressions reminded him immediately.

God, he really wanted to take a nap. All he wanted to do was walk right past everyone else, make it to his room upstairs and go back to sleep. Today was simply not a good day, and he couldn't bear a single thing more, or he would definitely find himself relapsing and throwing all his progress away.

But he couldn't make himself walk all that distance. Suddenly the thought of walking past the eyes of everyone made him sick. He also just realized that he had completely not used his crutches at all to make it to the kitchen, not that he was even aware of a thing, but at least he wasn't in pain.

And besides, he couldn't just leave Nico. He could leave his own mess behind to be there for Nico… and Hazel and Jason too, if he was being honest, because the three of them looked like the mess he felt.

He settled for leaning on a chair from the dining table, so he could be there, but not really be part of anything. He heard the door open behind him, but didn't dare to look, instead just faced forward, following Luke with pained eyes as he walked past him and crouched next to Annabeth and Reyna, whispering softly to the blonde.

Percy felt someone staring, and looked up to see Dr. D watching him with narrowed eyes. He knew he looked a mess, and he knew Dr. D knew about his history with depression, so even though every cell in his body refused to, he smiled softly, assuring the man that everything was alright. There was no way that Dr. D bought it, but he sighed. He had other three kids stressing at the moment.

"Kids, I'm sure you're stressed right now," Chiron said before anyone else spoke up, "I'm sure you have questions, and trust me we're confused too, but Nico, if we want to find out if you can have the procedure done, we should take you to take tests, and get the results as soon as possible-"

"No, I'm not leaving until my dad explains what the hell is going on."

"Watch your language son, and we are leaving now, I'll call an ambulance."

"I'm not having the procedure until you tell me what's happening."

"Nico, I'm your father, and if I say we're leaving, we are leaving."

"Well, it's my brain! And I think I deserve to have a say in what's done to it just as much as I deserve- we deserve to know what's going on."

"Nico-"

"No, dad he's right," Percy had never seen Hazel angry like that, and he has to admit the short girl's glare is far more intimidating than he would guess, "if what this guy's saying is right, he's our uncle- we didn't even know we had an uncle! - and that would mean Jason is our cousin, don't you think we deserve to know that?"

Nico and Hazel's father remains silent as he looks at his daughter, until he looks away at the man standing in front of him, who looks rather smug as he checks something on his smart-watch, and Percy can understand in a second why they don't get along.

A sigh.

"How is it that out of all the people in the world, our children had to end up knowing each other and becoming friends?" Mr. Dellamorte said, looking straight into Mr. Olympia's eyes.

They truly couldn't look more different. Not necessarily in a physical way though, it was more of an energy thing, their body language spoke a thousand words they couldn't tell.

"Family finds a way to get back together, don't you think? I mean here we are, well at least two of us," Mr. Olympia shrugged.

"You mean we have more uncles-"

"Speak for yourself brother, I keep in touch with our sisters, and if I could I would with our brother."

"Oh but you can't be bothered to keep up with me?"

"Do you blame me?"

"Stop," Jason said firmly, somehow managing to quiet the men down, "you two really are brothers? Nico, Hazel and I actually are cousins?"

"Yes, Jason," his father said, straightening his already perfect suit, "Hades may want nothing to do with our family name but we are family."

"I'm old enough not to argue with you," Mr. Dellamorte said, face void of emotion, "but you know perfectly well that my reasoning goes far beyond being related to the family name."

"Of course, it's me you have a problem with, everyone apparently does."

"Because you only think about yourself brother, will you ever realize that?"

"God, I'm actually feeling lightheaded," Hazel said faintly.

"You guys should not be dealing with this much right now, it's been a stressful morning," Apollo said gently, leading Hazel to a chair.

"I know but, dad, why didn't you tell us anything? You've kept our family a secret from us, even though you said you keep up with them," Nico said with a frown.

His father sighed, "Nico we should discuss this later, we should get you to the hospital, and you've seen your sister is not feeling well."

"I said not until you explain to me what happened."

"You said until I explain what's happening, as in present tense, nothing's happening right now."

"You know what I meant! Why did you keep all of this a secret?!"

"Nico, enough-"

"Because our family is complicated, child," Mr. Olympia rolled his eyes, and turned to Mr. Dellamorte, "He really is a persistent child, but anyway, our family is complicated, always has been, ever since we were children, and Hades chose the easy way out and left."

"Complicated doesn't cut it, Zeus. Our father was a horrible man, his money and power was everything to him, how you continue his company after everything he did is beyond me. All of us left at some point, our brother didn't even wait until his death, he just left one day."

"You know I hated our father as much as you did, I simply felt like he was winning if we didn't take at least a small advantage of the company."

"You're the president of the company and managed to get all our sharings from us, including our brother's even if he never consented to anything, at least the rest of us gave them to you so you'd stop bothering us."

"Oh, because I could just ask him, right? What was I supposed to do, throw them away? I tried to reach him for years."

"You and I both know he was with a woman when he died, who even knows if they were married or had children, you didn't look into that right?"

"In fact I did, and I can tell you that if he was with anyone, he was definitely not married, because there are no records of anything, and I couldn't find records of a child either, you seem to forget we found out about his death months after it happened."

"Anyway," Mr. Dellamorte stopped glaring at his brother, turning to his children, "there you have it Nico, this is why I keep my distance from our family, and why I've kept you away."

"So that's it?" Jason said softly, brows creasing in anger, "we've been unaware of our family because it's complicated?"

"Indeed," his father replied coolly, "my siblings despise the fact I've continued the company and the only one who didn't care about it died."

"We don't despise you, we simply don't want anything to do with it."

"You even went and changed your surname, I think that makes the message clear."

"You don't get to play the victim here, you've used his power the same way he did."

Silence met his statement. Honestly silence hasn't meant this much relief to Percy in years. He didn't know how tense he was until he felt his shoulders cramping and his fingers aching from how tight he was holding on to the chair. All the time the two adults have been talking, Percy wishes he just went upstairs already, but there's this feeling that there's more to everything that he can't shake, and honestly, he's not sure he can make it up the stairs without crumbling down at the moment.

Luke is still now half kneeling half sitting down next to a very pale Annabeth, holding the hand Reyna doesn't have between hers. Despite the mess that are his feelings, he hadn't ever wished to be the one whose hand he was holding so badly. He craved the warmth and comfort of Luke's touch, it made him feel so much more real. He cared for Annabeth alright, but that didn't take away the thought that he wished he was being held like she was.

Annabeth is sick right now, she's not having a good time, it's good they're there for her.

Am I not sick too?

It's not the same.

It's not the same. She deserves it more.

A shiver went down his spine. Of course, Annabeth deserved the care far more than he did, he wasn't even sick or anything, he was just tired. Definitely, yeah, obviously just tired, nothing more.

"Well, I think that'd be all," Mr. Olympia said, looking at his watch nonchalantly, "I have a flight to California to take, so I'll make my leave."

"What? You can't just leave after this?" Jason hissed, which sounded just wrong coming from him.

"Of course I can, there's nothing left to say."

"What if I want to know more about my family huh? Like… Europe, I didn't know we were from Europe, or what about the rest of my family? Like my aunts or uncle, do I have more cousins?"

"Big news Jason, our family is from Greece! As for your aunts, trust me they're crazy, and your uncle died over ten years ago."

"Why can't we meet our aunts?" Hazel said softly, it was obvious that everything was tiring her down.

"I just told you they're crazy, and I haven't spoken to them in years? I honestly don't know what's so interesting about all of this. Here, these two children are your cousins isn't that enough?"

"Actually they are, they're my friends, this is a lot to take in okay? I'm just curious-"

"Yes, well I can't feed your curiosity Jason-"

"Hera lives somewhere in California I think, honestly that one I can confirm is a weird one, she's good but she's just all over the place. Demeter has a farm in Ohio, she's a big fan of growing cereals for some reason. And Hestia never left home in Greece, she owns some restaurants and cafes, really cozy places. Poseidon was another weird one, he left to become a marine biologist, traveled the world looking for animals to take care of, last I heard he was here in New York, but he died long ago."

Something struck a nerve. It fell odd, it brought a weird taste to his tongue. He couldn't help the recoil he felt at the name. There was something so familiar. He couldn't piece it together, but something had clicked, something made the alarms go off inside his brain. His head started to hurt, a dull throb that had him wincing with how sudden it was.

"Demeter didn't give up on her dream of the farm huh?" Mr. Olympia laughed.

"Please," Mr. Dellamorte - or was it Olympia now?- snorted, "as if any of us lack stubbornness, she wanted her cultivations, she gets her cultivations, just look at Poseidon, he wanted to leave and travel and be part of the sea, and so he did. We all went to follow our dreams."

"Yes, well, look where that got Poseidon," Mr. Olympia says bitterly, "his recklessness cost him everything, if he hadn't been so bent that he was confined back home, maybe he'd still be alive."

"At least he died doing what he loved."

"He died because of what he loved, Hades, didn't he die at sea?"

"No, that's just what the media said, he was a renowned biologist after all, but he had some issues and he- well, uh, anyway this is not something the children need or want to hear."

Click.

Poseidon.

Didn't he die at sea?

No, that's just what the media said.

The scent of the sea. Brilliant green eyes that reminded him of the beaches of Montauk. Greece? Blue skies. The sea breeze hitting his face, caressing his cheeks. Warmth. Laughter.

Didn't he die at sea?

He got lost at sea, mi amor, I'm so sorry. We lost him.

And then nothing. As if a bucket of ice fell over him in one motion, he couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't feel anything but the freezing crash of arctic waves. His hands gripped the chair so tight either the chair or his fingers would break. His head was pounding. He couldn't breath, oh god, was he drowning?

"Now please Nico, hasn't it been enough? We need to get those tests taken."

How could time keep going, the world spinning? Why did everyone keep going like he wasn't dying?

"I- I just don't know how to feel," - he can't breathe, why won't they realize he can't breath- " it's shocking to hear what you've kept from us, but uh- I just need time to process it."

"We could have all the time in the world while waiting for the results to get back, once they take the tests."

"I- I guess yeah, I'm not as mad anymore, thanks- thanks for actually explaining a bit, though I do want to know more about the family."

"There really isn't anyone else worth talking about."

"Not even a cousin of yours, a cousin of ours?"

Why can't he breathe like a normal person? His chest is on fire. His head was crushing him.

Blood, there's so much blood.

"Hera and Hestia definitely didn't have any children, Demeter however, I think she's had some, but I know for sure a 100% she didn't raise them. For Poseidon, like I said, I can't be sure, I could bet he was seeing someone for a couple of years before he passed, but there are no records of a child, so no, you three plus Demeter's possible ones."

"Four, I have a daughter too, Thalia."

"Then four, that's that, now please Nico, can I call the ambulance, you can ask me more at the hospital."

A sigh, then, "O-okay fine, but you truly have to answer all my questions."

"Of course-"

"I'm going with them, no objections allowed, Nico's my brother and I need to be with him."

"I want to come too, if it's no problem, I mean, now that I know we're family…"

Another sigh, much deeper, "What can I say, if your parents consent-"

"Yes." "Of course."

"Then let's call the ambulance, I mean, what can I do, but you both wear your warmest clothes and a freaking mask, there's lots of colds out there in this weather, I don't want this newfound family to all get sick."

This can't be real.

He's going to be sick. He needs to move.

He forced his legs forward, even if he couldn't be sure he was walking, he couldn't feel anything but the pain, and toomuchtoomuchtoomuch.

He bumped with someone. His vision was blurry, he couldn't distinguish who it was.

"S'rry, s'rr', I need- bathroom-" and he somehow pushed himself up the stairs, feet subconsciously taking him where he wanted to go. He leaned most of this weight on every wall in his path, and he almost fell over several times, managing to catch himself in the last second.

It's too much, too cold, too painful. He needs- he needs-

He made it to his room, hastily throwing the door open, walking over to what he guessed is his closet, felt for the fuzziness of the blue sweatshirt, looking for the pocket-

There it is.

He grabbed the blade and the sweatshirt all together, and stumbled outside to the bathroom, somehow making it there and locking the door with trembling hands- his whole self was shaking really.

He falls to his knees and retches into the toilet. Nothing comes up but bile and the few not-at-all digested slices of whatever he was eating. He feels hot tears spill down his face, and they burn but at least they're something apart from the pain in his head and chest.

Maybe you're just taking things out of context.

Can you be sure you're not making things up? You've been doing lots of that lately…

He retched again, but nothing came up, only pain from his stomach as it tensed and convulsed.

But it all adds up.

Did it though? What was he panicking about? That some of his friends' fathers turned out to be siblings and they also had a brother named Poseidon that died at sea and was from Greece? Wasn't he pulling too much of a reach?

Except that the images that have threatened to invade him for months were stronger than ever, splitting his head in two.

He could picture his face. He could paint the memories of going out with him and his mom to have dinner. He could remember actually living with him, in a very nice flat no less. He could bet he wasn't as young as he had always thought in those memories. He could remember countless times when he and his mom were in a sailboat and he was there too. He could picture the sailboat itself, a big emblem with a trident and the words Atlantis on the side.

But he could remember better. The symbols in the napkins, in the cutlery, in towels, hell even engraved in cups. An eagle, the words Olympia below it...

A sob escaped his throat, and he wished the memories stopped there.

He didn't get why his nostrils filled with the scent of blood. But he remembered it now, bloody hands, and a bloody bathroom, much like his own a couple years ago. Tears and screams from his mother. Weren't they happy just before they got home? Then sirens and more screams. He could remember this part very well, now, this came to mind months ago. The scent of bleach and antiseptic threatened to pull him to unconsciousness, making him dizzy.

And then nothing. Not a single memory but a cemetery under the rain, his mom and him moving to another apartment, leaving everything behind.

He stopped crying at some point. Everything felt muddled and… numb.

The brain blocks out trauma so that you don't feel any unnecessary pain.

He'd heard that in too many films and shows, seen it online, read it in papers while he was having a bad bout of depression.

He didn't believe it until now.

Poseidon.

God, his dad.

Nothing made sense, except everything did.

The missing piece of the puzzle fit.

But how?

A sharp sting in his hand made him hiss. His hands were clenched tightly, one holding on to the toilet seat while the other hung off the edge. Things felt as if he was floating, but he tried to shake the fogginess, relaxing his hands as he turned them around. Red covered his hand, a thin yet ragged line running across his palm, blood slowly pouring out of it.

Relief.

Nothing else hurt but the cut in his hand. It stung.

What hurts? What stings? The cut? Or knowing you failed to keep your promise?

No.

Nothing mattered but the cut. He'd seen cuts before. He'd seen blood before. So why did this one entrance him so much?

Did this always feel so freeing, so relieving?

It had been an accident, but it was like the countless times before. It felt like he never stopped in the first place. Did this break the promise, even if it wasn't on purpose? Wait-

Am I free?

It was done right? He'd cut, what's the difference between 1 and 5?

No-

Why not? It takes away the pain.

His mother's face made him falter as he pushed his pants to his knees and sat down on the bathroom floor.

Would she be hurt if she found out this was happening? That he was this close to falling again? That he'd already made up his mind about throwing it all away?

Why hasn't she said anything? She knows what happened. She has known the truth for years and she hasn't said a thing.

Why would she let me believe a lie for so long?

He did it before he could really think about it. He wasn't aware of what he was doing until his fingertips were painted red. Looking down, so were his thighs.

His hands weren't shaking anymore, leaving nearly straight, clear red lines along his skin.

The blade in his hand is stained, little red drops dripping down onto the tile below.

He only blinked at the mess he'd made, as guilt pooled inside his chest, burning away the numbness.

But he couldn't fall down the hole of regret now. It wasn't going to help him in any way so why bother?

Instead he sighed, and welcomed the sting of the air on the fresh cuts, just a couple more lines added to the long-healed scars.

He felt the guilt recede a little, to be surprisingly replaced with relief. It was like unlocking a door to a safe place you'd hidden the key to. The pain was liberating in a fucked up way.

Deep down he knew this was bad, really not even too deep. But he had needed the peace only the bite of a blade could bring. After years of not feeling like he could breathe quite this easily.

He would let himself feel the remorse and disappointment later, but for now, he would relish the quiet of his thoughts. Despite it all, he smiled.

He couldn't stay inside the bathroom locked up forever, so after a few minutes, he grabbed some toilet paper and dabbed at the already dried up blood. The cuts were shallow after all. He had to dampen the tissues, and slowly cleaned up his thighs, his hands, the blade and the tile below him. He didn't have bandages to cover the cuts, so he let them air a little as he managed the rest. There was a chance they could open up and start bleeding again, so with a shrug, he grabbed some folded paper and pressed it against the wounds, placing it below his underwear so the pressure made sure the tissues didn't fall out of place. At least he had dark sweatpants, so if anything happened, blood wouldn't be noticeable.

He ended up with quite a handful of bloody paper, but everything else looked fine. There was absolutely no sign anything had happened, with his pants pulled up, blade hidden inside the pocket of his hoodie again. He flushed the worst of the paper down the toilet, and the rest, he folded within even more paper and threw it all in the bin.

And done, everything looked pristine.

He looked a little worse for wear, eyes puffy and red from crying, cheeks and nose tinged with a flush. But nothing he could hide behind an excuse like being tired or feeling ill. His gaze would have startled him under other circumstances, but the absence of emotion in his eyes didn't faze him then. The nothingness was a rather welcomed thing after the morning he'd had.

The panic he'd felt earlier seemed irrelevant now. It was a wonder how much the still sharp sting of his split up skin managed to make everything feel better, even if for a moment.

Even if he hated it and he would feel the shame and remorse later.

He stepped out of the bathroom and made his way to his bedroom, flopping down on his bed, mindful of his ankle and the cuts that could start bleeding at any moment. Dull white light filtered inside from the window. Turbulent and peaceful, the snow and the cold could kill and soothe at the same time. It felt fitting with the inside of his head.

It was cold, maybe too cold, and maybe not just because of the steady fall of the snow. He had been thrown at the sea under a glacial ice and left to drown on his own for far too long. He had broken up the surface by some miracle, found himself clawing at sheets of ice to stay afloat. He was running out of energy. He wasn't entirely sure he didn't want to just let go and sink to the bottom. The cold was so that he didn't feel much anyway.

He kept flipping the blade inside his pocket, testing the edge with not enough force to draw blood or even scratch. But the tool to do so was there just fine. It was close enough that if he needed it, he could just take it out.

It was so quiet right at that instant. It felt nice and serene, just to watch the snow falling outside from where he laid sideways on his bed. Nothing could bother him. It stayed like that for a moment, but he couldn't tell how much time had passed. It could have been ten seconds, or it could have been 10 hours.

Until, distantly, he heard sirens approaching, all too familiar at this point, and everything threatened to come crashing down on him. The practice to block out thoughts and feelings came in handy in times like these.

He remembered Nico needing to go to the hospital. Nico and Hazel's dad is brother to Jason and Thalia's. The four of them are cousins. And that's that. That's all. There's nothing else there. There's absolutely no more information that could be somewhat important there. The rest is irrelevant suppositions.

Someone knocked softly on the door, but he couldn't bring himself to speak or look away from the window.

Everything was fine. Everything was fine. I'm fine.

Luke's face came into focus, and he forced himself to look away, into those impossibly blue eyes that looked even brighter in the light for some reason-

Nope, not going there either. Not today.

Luke sat down on the edge of his bed, "Hey, how are you feeling?" He had no business sounding that soft or that concerned. A hand pressed to his forehead lightly. "Are you feeling ill? You don't have a fever, but you took your time in the bathroom."

He shrugged slightly, forcing words out of his mouth, "I puked a little, I don't know, I don't feel good, but nothing too bad, nothing that needs attention."

Technically not a lie. Well, it wasn't a lie at all. Every single thing he said was true.

"You sure? I could ask literally any of the three doctors in this house to come see you, or you could head with Nico to the hospital, if you feel bad."

No. Loud sirens. White lights. Blood. There's too much blood. Cries and screams. Death.

"Yeah I'm sure, it's just a bug or something, don't worry. Puking made me feel better."

Why would he worry?

Luke studied him for a moment, long enough that he turned to stare out the window again.

"Alright, well, if you're sure, if you still feel bad later we can just have one of them check you. Anyway, Nico is leaving right now. Hazel and Jason are going with him. I wondered if you wanted to go see him, but I can tell him you're feeling bad if you don't want to come downstairs."

"No, I'll come downstairs, someone needs to remind him to let the doctors do their work and not bother them too much."

At least that made Luke snort, "He could use yet another person saying that, but he's actually firm and serious about this."

It went unsaid. He needs the support.

"Then someone needs to remind him he's gonna make it and he's never gonna have to come back here again, he's gonna move back home in NYC." He took a deep breath. Everything felt heavy, but he sat up in bed, and things tilted sideways a little. The sting in his thigh grounded him, just like it always had. "He's gonna get past this."

He could feel Luke's body heat, from where he sat oh so close to him. He couldn't deal with any more shit at the moment, or he would genuinely jump out the window even if he knew it would accomplish nothing.

He stood up on unsteady feet, and found himself missing the support of the crutches, lost somewhere. Something must have shown on his face, because Luke bolted to his feet with a laugh, and walked outside, coming back with the thing held in his hands.

"Sorry, I forgot to bring them in, here you go." He was so thankful for the nuisance that currently was Luke Castellan, that he let the warm fondness settle in his chest a little. Only a little. Not enough to be an issue.

"Thanks, just let me text my mom and we can go downstairs."

"Sure, I'll wait in the living room."

That didn't make him feel any warmer, not at all. He walked over to the closet, took out the blade from the pocked in his hoodie. He couldn't just be walking around with it in his possession. The sting of the cuts reminded him he shouldn't feel the warmth. So did the words displayed on his screen.

Me

hi mom, how is everything going today?

are you coming soon? i wanted to ask you something

He only had to wait a few seconds for the little dots to appear. Only a few seconds more and the texts came

Mom:

Hi honey! We're doing alright, we'll go to the grocery store in a few minutes. How are you? How's everyone else?

Paul has a school thing the day after tomorrow, so I was planning to come by and spend some time with you. Is everything alright?

Me

nico isn't doing good, there taking him to the hospital today

but i'm doig fine, i wanted to check that rn tho

the ambulance just came, i'll textyou later

He didn't wait for her reply now. He shut down the screen, put his phone in his pocket and walked outside. Luke was waiting for him in the living room as promised. Together they walked downstairs, with a firm hand on Percy's back steadying him.

He took another deep breath.

He could deal with the rest later. First, Nico. He had to be sure he could make it. And Percy had to be a good enough friend to assure him.

AN: So… that was a lot. I'm not gonna lie, I avoided writing this bc I personally struggle with self harm and I was going through a rough moment, so I genuinely didn't want to trigger myself lol.

Percy is going through some hard shit, but I promise it'll get better, eh, one way or another, somewhat. This is really angsty alright, but it won't be this bad for long.

Anyway this goes to trauma and abuse survivors, suicide attempt survivors, and self harm survivors, I love you and I'm proud of you. And to those who lost their battle too, I hope you're resting in more peace than life could offer you.

However please remember that self harm is not the answer, if you ever need to talk, you can message me phantaloon on tumblr and I'll reply as soon as possible. I love you, stay strong.

And sorry I don't reply to comments here, I've never had a clue of how to do it, so if you have anything to tell me message me tumblr, the same username as above.

And sorry for any continuity errors, I wrote the first couple thousand words in February and the end by April, I could barely remember where I was going with what I wrote last each time I opened the doc.

Again, I'm nearing the end of my first uni semester, so I hope to see you sometime soon.

(Another thing, for the sake of everyone's sanity and because greek mythology is weird asf, I have divided Hera and Juno into two people, Hera is Hades and Zeus' sister and Juno is Zeus's wife,,, I'm not about to write incest here but I fucked up by including the family of the 6 first gods,,, also for our sanity Persephone is not Demeter and Zeus' daughter, like I said before the only ones who are related are these 6 gods, and Artemis and Apollo but they're not related to Zeus lmao)