Happy holidays and happy new year! I'm sorry for the delay. (I also made a Christmas one-shot that is sort of a prequel to this story. It's very silly, but you guys should read it and let me know what you think. It's called A magical Christmas and it's on my profile.)
Disclaimer: Percy Jackson & the Olympians, Heroes of Olympus and the Trials of Apollo don't belong to me. The same goes for The Vampire Diaries and The Originals.
English is not my native language so I am very sorry for any mistake I might have.
...
Chapter 12
...
"Asclepius," Percy whispered against the dark. "Asclepius."
The book on her lap was heavy and thick, filled with the regret and horror of a thousand sins and profanities committed by the gods. A mythology book. Percy passed through the names distractedly, glad to have something to do and concentrate on.
Annabeth was by her side, a thick blanket covering her shoulders and head. A pen between her teeth, a cup of coffee close to her legs on the grass.
While Percy was attempting to find a myth long forgotten by humanity, Annabeth was searching for the answer she long desired to know; the truth behind that moonstone curse.
"You know we have to talk about Asclepius sooner than later," Annabeth muttered distractedly. "You know, if he's a bad therapist then you should just stop having sessions with him."
"What's there to talk about? I can't bring myself to talk to him, because all he asks is about the past. And I can't remember the past without feeling an immense amount of guilt and pain eating away at my soul. And eventually, everything gets so mixed together that the only emotion I can feel is anger."
Annabeth stared at her, attentively listening to all she said. "That's when the hallucinations and the flashbacks start?"
The green-eyed girl flinched. "Most of the time, yes. Sometimes they just come without any reason."
There was a long pause after that, though none of the girls wanted to resume reading. They were too deep in thoughts to be able to concentrate enough.
"PTSD is something serious," Annabeth managed to say after a while. Her words were a little hesitant, almost like she didn't want to say them. "Sometimes, there's no going back to who we were before those traumatic moments happened. Maybe this that we feel is something we will have to live with for the rest of our lives."
Percy was so focused on her own pain and suffering that she often forgot that Annabeth had also gone through the same as her, and maybe through worse things. Guilt filled her senses, making her look away.
She never wanted Annabeth to suffer.
"Maybe," Percy replied quietly.
The thought of never getting over it frightened her. What kind of life would that be?
She looked down at the book, eyes skipping over the letters without actually processing what it said. What kind of life was she living now? Living in a town she hated, surrounded by people she did not care for, alone in the world when not needed.
Mrs. O'Leary was peacefully sleeping close to them, her snores being the only background sound they could have. Around them, a breeze was blowing against the leaves on the trees, rustling them.
After a long pause, Annabeth closed her book and turned to face Percy. There was a look on her eyes, one that Percy knew too well and that always made her feel a spark of adrenaline course through her whole body.
It was the look that meant that she had reached a conclusion, and at first, she feared that it was another conclusion about their post-traumatic stress disorder, but, thankfully, it was not.
"This curse is bullshit," Annabeth declared. "It's fake."
That grabbed Percy's attention. She shifted the book on her lap, and after marking the page she last looked at, she faced the blonde demigoddess.
"What do you mean?"
"There's no record of a curse that can make all vampires or all werewolves resistant to their weaknesses." They shared a long look, both deep in thoughts. "Do you understand what it means, Percy? Alaric was wrong when he told us about the curse, the book where he found it was wrong, everyone was wrong about this curse."
"Someone lied about the curse so others would try to break it. Which means that the real curse is one much darker, more dangerous-"
"And it's coming right for us." Annabeth shook her head. "For you- Percy you have to secure that moonstone. It cannot fall into another's hands. Not until we discover what the real curse will do once broken."
Percy bit her lower lip. "Alright. But I'm not quite sure I'd be the most qualified person to hold into that moonstone. I can't control my actions, you saw what happened with Mason."
"You're worried about the effect it can have on you?"
"Not really. I'm more worried about the fact that I do things that I cannot recall doing, and I don't want to wake up one day to find that the world is at risk because I did something with that curse without knowing it-"
The blonde girl stared at her, thinking hard. "It happens a lot? Those blackouts?"
A dreading sensation took hold of Percy's body. There was something about that question that made her suffocate; that made her swallow uncomfortably. Flashes of frightened faces went through her mind, followed by the tickling sensation of triumph swimming on her stomach.
"No." It was a lie, one that made her feel like the most wretched person in the world. For one frightful moment, she feared her friend would know her enough to know she was deceiving her. "It barely happens at all."
It had happened twice. One in Camp Half-Blood with a camper from Cabin 5, a girl called Victoria. The second time there in Mystic Falls, with Mason Lockwood.
She swallowed again- at least Victoria was still alive, Mason was dead.
The reminder of what she'd done only seemed to add more fuel to the bonfire that was her consciousness. She had liked it, she had rejoiced in using her powers like that. She had wanted to do it again, to lose control like that and just wreak havoc.
Anything to make her feel real- because all she felt was pain, and she wanted to feel something else; anything else- to make her feel alive.
What kind of person did that? Percy felt sick to her stomach. How had she changed so much?
"What does Asclepius say about it?" There was a knowing gleam on Annabeth's eyes, which made the raven-haired demigoddess feel even more disgusting.
Percy's silence was enough answer to the daughter of Athena.
"Percy-" But whatever she was going to say, she didn't.
"I just can't talk about it to anyone."
"You're talking to me about it."
"You're different," Percy said quietly. "You're my friend."
Asclepius was kind and gentle and welcoming- everything a normal god was not- but talking with him felt like emptying what was left of her soul into a void. He listened only with the desire to heal, not with any intention of understanding and reassuring; he was all business.
It was hard to talk with someone like that.
"I did get to talk to Asclepius about something, though," Percy cleared her throat, trying to ignore the nagging sensation on her chest. Had she disappointed Annabeth? She couldn't help but feel as though she had. "My mood-swings."
"Those aren't mood-changes. That's something you're doing to yourself." Asclepius had told her, "You try to hide and push back everything that hurts, but that only makes all your emotions collide, which results in only one blinding emotion: rage."
What the god couldn't understand was the following: rage was easier to manage than pain.
She could control her rage and her urges, but she could never control the waves of pain that crashed against her at all times. Like actual waves crashing against the shore, it was unstoppable.
Percy learnt that the hard way. Perhaps, Luke knew that too when he decided to follow his rage instead of his morals.
It was painfully ironical that now that she was almost the same age Luke had been when he first betrayed them, she was finally starting to understand how deep his anger had been, how much pain he had felt to turn against his own blood.
She could not blame him.
"And what did he say?" Annabeth inquired, snapping Percy out of her thoughts. "About your mood swings, I mean."
Percy hesitated a little. His familiar blue eyes had been filled with such a large amount of sympathy that the young demigoddess had been forced to drown his voice out, not standing how his words were laced with pity.
"What's there to say? I'm a teenager with ADHD, dyslexia and PTSD. The three of them have mood-changes as their symptoms."
"Right." Annabeth looked away, knowing that her friend was done talking about it. After a little, she moved so she was laying down on the grass, and looked up at the sky.
Percy started to watch her, but as seconds went by, her mind took another turn. She thought of a similar scenario, one that started with both of them stargazing, as they were now, but that ended a little different. Tell the suns and the stars hello for me.
"Did Asclepius mention Apollo at all?" Annabeth inquired after a while. "Or did he just act as though he never gave you that letter?"
"He didn't mention him. Do you think I should've mentioned him?"
She shook her head no, and sighed a little. "Does it make you uncomfortable? That your therapist is the son of your ex-boyfriend?"
That had to be the reason why Percy didn't ask Asclepius what Apollo told her to ask him, that had to be the reason as to why they were now forced to search multiple books to get an answer.
"The thought of Zeus forbidding Apollo to interfere with me makes me more uncomfortable than that, to be honest."
"Gods cannot interfere with the affairs of other gods, not directly," Annabeth pointed out. "Though since you two are not together-"
Percy interrupted her. "He's punishing Apollo. Not only for hiding when he should've fought and for aiding Octavian. Zeus is punishing because of me."
"But that is-" Percy could almost see the wheels turning in Annabeth's head. After a moment, the daughter of Athena reached a conclusion, and gasped. "Oh."
Percy couldn't help the smile that cornered her lips, nor the distant flutter that appeared on her stomach. "Gods are limited to how much they can interfere in mortal affairs. That's one of the ancient laws Zeus created-"
"Apollo traveled to New Rome with us demigods," Annabeth started to smile. "He aided you when Artemis and I were kidnapped-"
He ravished me on his sun-chariot multiple times, thus putting the whole world at risk of being incinerated. Percy smiled to herself. Thank the gods for autopilot, though.
"People call me a troublemaker for breaking rules, but they fail to realize that even gods break them."
"I can see why you're so in love with him," Annabeth impulsively said. "If someone broke an ancient law for me, I'd be head over heels for them."
A warm feeling covered Percy's body. "It's more than that, you know? This-" She gestured to the mythology book. "Is something I have to do. I need to know what will happen to him."
"Because you feel guilty or because you care about him?"
"I don't think I'll ever stop caring about him." Sometimes wondered if she missed being his friend more than she missed being his girlfriend. She always knew their relationship would come to an end, but she never expected their friendship to die like that. And to some extent, that hurt more. "Just like I will always, always feel guilty."
Annabeth sighed exasperatedly. "You don't have to feel guilty about Apollo. You never forced him to do anything he didn't want to do. He made his own decisions and now he's paying for them. He chose to love you, he chose to be with you, he chose to break the relationship up. You did nothing wrong."
"You don't understand." Percy pursed her lips.
Apollo was as tall and muscular and bronze as a Baywatch lifeguard. He let his blond hair long, but tied it back in a man-bun so it didn't interfere with his archery. He sauntered around Olympus in his gleaming robes with his bow and arrow, winking at the ladies and high-fiving the dudes, or sometimes winking at the dudes and high-fiving the ladies.
He could have anyone he wanted; male, female or non-binary. And for some strange reason he had wanted her; he had loved her- perhaps too much- and now for his actions he was being punished.
Percy felt as though it was her fault for loving him back.
It was stupid and it made no sense, but nothing really made sense for the green-eyed demigoddess lately, so somehow, her mind got attached to that thought.
"Don't be stupid," Annabeth sighed again, knowing what she was thinking. "Love is not a feeling. Love is a choice. And he chose you. Don't blame yourself for the things you have no control over."
Percy wasn't so sure about love being a choice and not a feeling, though some part of her told her that her friend was right. She was still too young to understand those words and what they meant, but she decided to try and think about it some other time, about love and what it really was, once her mind was sane enough to properly think of something that was not painful.
When she caught a glimpse of the night sky, her breath got lost on her throat. It was a sight Bob would've loved, had he not sacrificed himself for them.
One second, she had been thinking about love, and the next? It was about Bob and Tartarus. That's how her mind worked; one second something and the other it was Tartarus again.
Annabeth noticed.
"Do you think it has to do with our ADHD?"
Percy looked at her, tilting her head to the side and asking with her eyes for context.
"I mean, it makes us unable to stay still for too long. Do you think that it's the same with our brains? That we overthink because we literally cannot be long without doing something, without moving, without thinking."
Percy watched her friend for a long time, observing her and how she seemed pleased with having thought about that, but also curious as if she was right in her assumptions. A slow smile cornered Percy's lips, the first real smile she had since her first therapy session with Asclepius earlier that night.
"You're most definitely Athena's daughter, Wise Girl."
Said girl flushed with pride.
"Really, though," Percy continued, nodding a little. "Your theory is kind of reasonable."
Maybe.
Maybe Percy couldn't stop thinking about the war and about her past because her mind had to be in constant movement.
That didn't explain though, why out of all she could think about, she always ended thinking about painful things.
"Sometimes I wish my mind could stop thinking so much about Tartarus," Annabeth whispered, almost hesitantly.
It was the first time she dared to say something like that to Percy, and the green-eyed demigoddess didn't know what to do. So she said the first thing that came to her mind, "I understand you," which seemed to be just what her friend needed to hear.
Annabeth closed her eyes.
Percy watched her for a little, then looked up at the sky again.
She tried to be positive and think that everything was going to be alright, but she was pessimist by default. She knew there would be good days and bad days, she had been told multiple times by everyone (including Asclepius himself) that the possibility of her being haunted by the war for the rest of her life was extremely high.
The anger she could live with, but the guilt and the pain and those damned hallucinations and blackouts- she'd rather die than go through that for the rest of her life.
Her eyes focused on the constellations, blinking back to reality when her friend intertwined their fingers together. In that moment, Percy felt as if there was a gigantic bridge between them, one that had started to form when Hera separated them, and that now was unbreakable.
Her sea-green eyes filled with tears at the thought of slowly losing her best friend.
Deep down, Percy knew that would never happen, there was no way that after everything they went through they'd ever drift too far apart from each other. But some stupid part of her brain was insisting on that, insisting that there was something between them now, that they would never be close again, that- somehow- it was all her fault.
From the very beginning of her demigod life, she had been wrongly blamed. She was so used to being blamed over stuff that now she blamed herself for everything, even for the things she had no control over.
In that moment, she was as conscious as she could ever be. And yet, Gaea's voice echoed in her mind. First that satyr, then the sun god, now the spawn of Athena. It appears you destroy everyone you love.
This is our revenge, Kronos' own voice joined the fun. You damage everyone you love, and so they leave you. You will have to live with this knowledge for the rest of your life.
The daughter of Athena saw the state her friend was currently in, and gently started to trace patterns on her hand with her thumb, startled at how cold her friend's skin was. "Hey," She breathed, gently. "What's wrong?"
"I am trying," Her hand was warm and her intentions were good, but even that small contact felt foreign to Percy. "I'm trying my hardest and it's still not enough." She looked like a broken girl, crying out for any deity to hear her and pity her. But she wanted no pity, and no deity was going to save her. She was her own hero, she had always been. She had to save herself, bit by bit, but all by herself.
That had to be enough.
...
The monsters were never under my bed.
Because the monsters were inside my head.
—Nikita Gill
...
"You're such a dork," Emma Darcy laughed, her pretty face flushed with delight. "I can't believe you actually said that."
They were in the attic on Percy's house. Previous to that day, the young demigoddess had never been there, but after entering for the first time, she found that she actually liked it. It was a wooden, empty space of about fifteen feet, and at the left side there was a small window above a small, dusty desk with old papers and spider-webs all around. At the right side, there was a big window where one could sit at and stare outside. If she looked up- and she did- Percy could see where the roof met, since the wood beams were out. In the air was a smell that was both familiar and foreign, but she couldn't name what it was.
It made her think of Camp Half-Blood's attic in the Big House, but without all the souvenirs from previous missions and all those reminders of previous campers and their heroic actions.
"What else could I have said?" Percy's tone was laced with innocence, though nothing about her was innocent.
"Maybe something more respectful," Emma grinned at her. "One of this days you're going to find someone that won't put up with your shit."
"That someone wouldn't be you, would it?"
Emma simply gave her a look that was meant to be mysterious, though it was hard to look that way when she was wearing a white sweater adorned with yellow smiley faces, and rainbow-colored eyeshadow.
The reason for them to be together in the attic was simple; Sally received some boxes from their old apartment in Manhattan- their arrival had been delayed for almost two months- and needed help storing them away. They ended up staying there, talking and opening some boxes to see what was inside of them.
It had been a month since Annabeth left Mystic Falls.
The blonde demigoddess had been reluctant to leave, specially since both could feel that more dangers were approaching town, but in the end they had to part ways.
While Annabeth was occupied searching for her cousin in Boston, Percy's life was actually monotone there in Virginia: She went to school, studied for her upcoming SAT's, had therapy sessions with Asclepius at nights, and occasionally- if she had the time- she hung out with friends.
Just like she had predicted, there were bad days and good days.
One of those good days was when she found out her mother was pregnant- she was going to have a little sister or brother!- when she felt so happy that she thought she'd never feel sad again. The next day, she had woken up with nightmares of the past and the face of Kronos staring at her; that's what no one ever said, that pain was something that came and went very easily and unexpectedly, like a summer breeze blowing through a dirty sidewalk.
In any case, Percy was the dirty sidewalk. The summer breeze was her PTSD.
When she had company, it was easier to slip into more comfortable thoughts. When surrounded by people she trusted or that distracted her, her mind had very little time to make her suffer. So most of her afternoons, she talked with Damon Salvatore or, those times where he was busy wreaking havoc, with Emma Darcy.
That day was one of those days where Damon was probably wrecking havoc somewhere, because she had gone to look for him at the Boarding House, only to find that the house was empty.
"Can I open this box and see what's inside?" Emma snapped Percy out of her thoughts. "It has your name on it."
"That's alright, you can still open it. I'm sure there's nothing strictly embarrassing there."
"Alright, but if there's something embarrassing there, you should know that I will never let you see the end of it."
"You wouldn't be you if you did, freckles."
"I swear to God you have something against my freckles," Emma mumbled, a scowl appearing on her face.
The green-eyed demigoddess allowed herself a small smile before opening another box. She had purposely forgotten to tell her mother that she was looking for a book- had she told Sally what kind of book it was, her mother would've suspected something-, and now she was regretting it.
She didn't find what she was looking for the previous month, for which she decided to search in another mythology book. The only slight problem to her brilliant plan was that she could not find another book about said topic anywhere.
"Do you often kiss gods?"
Percy's whole body tensed, a spark of adrenaline cursing though her whole body. When she turned, expecting the mortal girl to have transformed into a monster, her heartbeat was beating faster than ever against her chest. One of her hands felt for Riptide on her pockets.
Emma tilted her head to be able to look at her. She looked as normal and innocent as always, with that never-ending smile on her face and her flushed cheeks contrasting against the million freckles she had scattered all around her cheeks and nose.
There was a Polaroid picture between her fingers, which made Percy's heart skip a beat because now she knew what was inside that box Emma found.
There were about thirty-forty Polaroid photographs scattered all around, each and every one of them containing a scene that made her feel both warm and heartbroken.
In that moment, Percy thought she would've preferred to have her only mortal friend in Mystic Falls be a monster in disguise than to face those memories.
Instead of running away as she wanted to, she started to walk forwards, as if drawn to those photos and all they contained and meant.
The one Emma had seen first was one of Percy's favorite from before- (before the war, before the pain, before everything went to hell) It was a close-up shot of fifteen years old Percy, who was in what seemed to be a museum of some sort, her sea-green eyes closed as she faintly pressed her lips against the perfectly carved lips of a bust sculpture.
It looked very professional, though it had been taken with a simple Polaroid camera and nothing else. Though the mortal girl suspected that the reason for it to look so good was the green-eyed girl. She was a gorgeous sight to behold, more so when she was kissing art. Her lips seemed to fit so well into those stone carved ones. Her smile was so pure, so happy and mischievous, her skin so flawless.
It was a Percy unlike the one Emma knew.
She read the description on the small white part of the Polaroid, though it was written in another language and she couldn't understand it, she did get to see the date it was taken. Two, almost three years before.
"Is there a story behind this picture?" Emma asked shyly. "Or you just saw it and decided you had to kiss it?"
It seemed like a thing Persephone Jackson would do. She was impulsive and reckless, it was something that everyone could notice right after meeting her.
But gods were petty beings and a simple joke like that could set them off.
"A friend of mine told me once that there was nothing as addicting as good as kissing art. And Apollo was quite the addicting masterpiece, if I dare to say so."
As was to be expected, Emma didn't get the private joke. "That was the statue's? Apollo's?"
Percy nodded in answer.
The real story behind that kiss was too personal to divulge to someone she only knew for a couple of months. Not to mention that she could never begin to explain anything of her world to her. A demigoddess could never truly be completely honest to a mortal; there were too many things to hide, too many stories to modify; too many secrets.
The thought of having a friendship like that, one that was based on lies, made her feel unworthy of having Emma on her life, unworthy of having a friend.
"Who are these people?"
When Percy focused on her friend again, -when did she even stop listening to her in the first place?- she found that the brunette was now staring hard at a different photograph, one in which Percy saw herself- her younger self, she was probably thirteen or fourteen in that picture- hugging Grover's left side while Annabeth hugged his right side.
Her heart thumped louder. "Those are my best friends."
Emma stopped and stared at them better, a slow smile cornering her lips.
Percy was full of adrenaline, though this time it had nothing to do with fear. Looking at those pictures hurt- they showed a part of her that was dead and gone- but they also portrayed only the happiness. Those were proof that there had been happiness on her life, that she had been safe and happy once. Those had been good moments, if all simple and casual, which was what Percy loved the most;the little things in life.
Her heart broke all over again, but it was a different kind of pain. Percy kept all the bad moments inside of her at all times, it was a refreshing thing to be reminded of the good ones too.
"She's gorgeous." Emma's warm black eyes were focused on the blonde demigoddess, though occasionally, she fixed her eyes on her green-eyed friend.
There was something on her voice that made Percy believe that she didn't intend for her to hear that comment, for which Percy remained as if she had not heard that.
The next photograph was one of Sally and Paul's wedding.
They were staring at each other, adoration written on their faces. Behind them, they could see the wedding cake, and right at their left side, Percy was standing alongside a blond boy. At the other side, the same blonde girl from before was standing side by side with a brown-haired boy.
"Your scars-" Emma stopped herself, blushing furiously. "I'm sorry."
Percy was a little shaken, never expecting her shy friend to mention that little detail about her.
The first war had not even fully started when they took that picture, of course her skin was free of any flaw. Two wars later and now she looked like a walking scar with green eyes and dark hair.
Feeling uncomfortable for the first time that day, the green-eyed demigoddess simply looked away from her, embarrassed and self-conscious
The next photograph had the blond boy from the wedding, though this time there was a different light to him. He looked older, almost like a grown up man. He was behind the wheel on the driver's seat, a smile on his lips that mean that he knew someone was taking his picture, though his eyes remained on the road ahead of him; he seemed to irradiate light and warmness, even when it was a picture, Emma could almost feel it.
"Who is that?" Emma found herself asking. She saw the inscription and knew, not for what it said, because she couldn't read that language, but because there were small hearts drawn there. "He's in a lot of photographs."
"Fred," Percy smiled at the private joke. "The camera was his, so he's in a lot of photographs."
Apollo acquired it to document the most important pieces of art in the world, along with the most beautiful sights; everything he loved and liked, with the intention of remembering in the darkest days that there were good things in life.
But I'm in all your pictures, Percy had pointed out, raising her eyebrows, amusement on her voice. That's kind of cheating on this little project of yours.
He had only smiled.
Something seemed to snap in Percy, making her stand up from the floor and walk away. Emma watched over her, confused at her sudden mood-change.
"Are you okay?" Emma asked shyly. "Did I do something to upset you?"
Percy shook her head, though no words left her mouth. She moved as though she were about to crouch down and open another box, but the only thing she wanted was to be out of her friend's view.
"You could never make me upset."
And that was another one of the lies their friendship was based on.
Emma had made her upset, she had made her feel self-conscious over her scars, over how much everything had changed; she had unknowingly forced her to look at those pictures, to acknowledge that she had changed and that she was drifting apart from all she used to be.
She hadn't seen Grover in months- a year in December.
She wasn't with Apollo anymore.
She wasn't in Camp Half-Blood, she wasn't in New York anymore.
The friends she had in Mystic Falls were something out of mutual-benefit. Just people she hung out with, not wanting to be alone.
The harsh reality was that she was all alone. This is our revenge. This is our revenge. This is our revenge.
...
Emma went home when her brother called her to tell her he wanted to eat. "He's an idiot," she explained to Percy. "He doesn't know how to cook nor does he have money. So it is up to me to make him food since our parents are out of town for the week. And I don't even cook very well."
"Men must hate you," Percy gave her an amused smirk.
It was a joke, the raven-haired girl knew her mortal friend was not impressed by the way the male gender thought. In fact, she did everything possible to disappoint every man she met.
It was rather easy, actually, to offend a man. Just with her clothing style (Percy particularly loved when Emma wore sweaters that bore the captions: girls like girls, gals before pals, girls just wanna have fun-damental human rights) and her attitude (she was loud and demanding when around misogynist men) she managed to do so everyday.
"I'm a female, non-white person that doesn't know how to cook-" Emma started to smile. "They despise me."
After walking her to her car, and then waving goodbye, Percy wet back inside. She headed towards the attic, intending to close the door to it, when a thought came to her mind.
The medicine god told her she had to deal with her pain, that she had to learn to remember her past without hurting too much and without getting consumed with unpleasant thoughts.
So she thought that maybe she could start using the photographs she found. Her main idea was to stick them to the wall, or at least to keep them somewhere she would see them everyday. It was something small and silly, but it could work as a beginning.
So after carefully securing the attic's old door, she went downstairs towards her room, the box with photographs on her hands.
Sally was at Percy's door when she approached her room. "There you are."
"Hi, mom."
"Do you remember the man that was looking for you a while ago?"
Unconsciously, she looked back towards her drawers, where she hid Apollo's letter. Now that she knew that he was imprisoned in Olympus, it was safe to say that the man looking for her was not him. Though she remembered her mother describing him as elegant and handsome.
Probably another god.
The thought made her cringe.
"He came back?"
"This morning," Sally nodded. "When you were at school. I told him to come by later, and he agreed."
Mother and daughter shared a look. The brunette woman looked a little concerned, though the man she had met twice behaved like a gentleman and had been nothing but polite and agreeable. With her daughters luck, it could be someone dangerous.
"It's not a monster," She lowered her voice, not intending her husband to listen since he was close by in the hallways. "I would've seen the Mist around him if he was."
But what Percy had noticed that Sally didn't know, was that when it came to mortal monsters, there was no Mist surrounding them.
They were a completely different kind of monster, one that the mortal woman had no way of recognizing.
"It must be a god," Percy groaned. "It has to be one."
The other option was still the mortal-monster one, though she couldn't even imagine why a mortal monster would be seeking her out like that. Unless it was like Katherine and the Salvatore brothers, who had selfish reasons to want her around.
But if that was the case, there was another thing to consider: how had the mortal-monster found her? No one in town knew what she was- though sometimes she thought that Alaric was extremely close to discovering it- and she intended to keep it that way.
"His name is Elijah," Sally remembered, "Elijah Smith, which, if I dare to say it, sounds like a fake name." As an author- or an aspiring one- she knew a lot about names.
Percy pursed her lips. "Did he say when he was coming back?"
Sally shook her head.
"Promise me something, mom," Percy looked serious, which surprised her mother. "If he comes by, you won't invite him inside. And if he starts to threaten you-"
"I run and leave everything to you," Sally finished for her, scowling in disapproval. "I can handle myself, sweetheart."
"You're pregnant," Percy blurted out, "I don't want any of you getting hurt because of me. So please, do as I say."
Sally looked like she wanted to protest, but she didn't.
As they parted ways, the older woman heading towards her study and the young demigoddess back into her room, she couldn't help but think as though she had read the name Elijah somewhere. The only problem was that she had read so much that past month that she could never know for sure where she read it from.
The matter was quickly forgotten when Paul appeared at her doorway, asking her if she wanted to play baseball with him. His grin was so contagious and his energy so refreshing that Percy could only accept.
They went outside to play while Sally watched them with a smile on her face, the old typewriter she used to write her book firmly settled on her lap. For moments, she watched them with a fond look on her eyes, almost as of watching them made her immensely happy, and at other moments, her concentration was completely set on the machine on her lap.
Moments like that made Percy feel whole. She thought about her family, of how easy it was to make her parents happy- all she had to do is act as though she was alright- and about how much everything was going to change when her little sister or brother would be born.
The whole notice of Sally's pregnancy had caught her by surprise, not because they were old- because they were still on their late thirties- but because every time she thought of being a big sister, she had imagined it would've been by Poseidon's side.
Had it been on Poseidon's side, Percy would've not been able to spend much time with the baby.
The thought of watching the baby grow made her grin widely.
"Have you thought about names?" Paul yelled at her as he threw the ball.
"Names?" She hit the ball with her bat, sending it flying towards the older man. Paul moved in sync with it, and managed to catch it. "Nice!"
He grinned. "Thanks. For the baby," He threw the ball up and down in the air a few times before aiming it at the demigoddess, who missed. As she moved to collect it and throw it back at him, he turned back to look at Sally, who was too far away to listen to their conversation.
"Names for my little sister or brother?" Percy was surprised. "You trust me to come up with good names?"
"Of course. It's our family, sweetheart," Paul smiled at her in a way that made her miss her own father. Poseidon had never looked at her like that, not with such an enormous amount of unconditional love. "We still have seven months, you don't have to think of names right now."
Percy nodded a little, tilting her head to the side. "Which names have mom and you thought of so far?"
It was too early to know the sex of the baby, since Sally was only two months into the pregnancy, which meant they didn't know what to expect. Sally claimed she held no preference towards either gender, though she would like to have a son. Paul liked the idea of having a daughter, though he already considered Persephone to be his.
Meanwhile, Percy liked the idea of having a sister. She already had two brothers, Tyson and Triton, so the thought of having a sister for a chance sounded exciting.
"I have only one request," Percy called loudly. When Paul looked at her, she grinned apologetically. "Please don't give my sibling a Greek name."
He laughed.
...
One look at her, and Asclepius knew she was going through something.
Their meetings were at night, when everyone was asleep, and usually they were in the forest, though that night they were in the garden, close to the porch. The bad thing about it being so late was that at night, when everything was dark and quiet, it was very easy to let the mind wander.
And Percy's mind had to stop wandering around.
"What is haunting you today?"
"I was thinking that it's so ironic that I can literally forget my mother's name and forget to eat for two days straight," Percy started, stressed. "But I can't forget about Tartarus, not even for a second."
"You need to take care of yourself, Percy," His voice was warm and comforting. It eased her nerves. Percy had the sudden urge to snuggle against him and to hear him tell her that everything was going to be alright. "Did you eat today? You have to drink water, too, to remain hydrated and healthy."
"I already ate, don't worry," Percy muttered, brushing it aside. "Paul reminded me to."
Asclepius nodded and waited for a moment, expecting her to say something else. When she didn't, it was he who continued. "What about Tartarus is in your mind today?" He asked.
Percy hesitated a little. Talking to him wasn't as hard as it used to be, though she still found it difficult at times. What motivated her the most was the thought of taking it off her system, the thought of being rid- if only for a small moment- about all that was destroying her.
"Everything," She said. "I was thinking earlier about Tartarus and about literally everything. And I just- I remembered something," Her voice was steady, though her hands started to tremble and her breathing got a little unsteady.
"Breathe," Asclepius reminded her. "That pressure you feel in your throat is not real, you can breathe."
She breathed, the thing choking her disappearing as she inhaled and exhaled, the breathing exercises he had taught her.
"Better?" Asclepius gave her a kind look. "Continue."
"Empathy links," Percy managed to say. "If I die, the other person linked to me will most likely die too, or enter a vegetative state for the rest of their lives."
"That's correct, though empathy links can only be used between a satyr or faun and another person. So whatever you're thinking of doing, I advice you-"
"I'm already linked to someone," Percy interrupted him, then apologized for it. She wasn't one to usually apologize, much less to gods, but she really wanted to respect Asclepius. He was helping her, he was trying, he was kind. She had to show him some respect and gratitude.
Asclepius understood strikingly fast. "I see. And Tartarus. You fell to Tartarus and faced horrible dangers there-"
"Tartarus is the most horrible place I have ever been at and I just can't stop thinking that Grover went through all I went through and that- oh gods- he is feeling what I'm feeling right now and that he knows how I feel because I made him go through the same and I just-"
"Percy, breathe."
"I'm hurting Grover. I'm hurting him and I just can't forgive myself for putting him at risk-"
"You had no choice," Asclepius shook his head. "You didn't choose to fall into Tartarus, you didn't choose to hurt him."
That was her fatal flaw. She had fallen into Tartarus for one of her friends, and now she was having a breakdown at the thought of having hurt the other friend while down there. She wasn't thinking about herself back there and neither was she now, it was all about her loved ones.
"But I told him to keep the empathy link on!" Percy couldn't breathe properly. "I told him to leave it on so that I could always know if he was in danger! I wanted to protect him! And look what happened! All that time that I was lost, he was lost too, all that time I nearly died, he nearly died too-"
"But you're alive," Asclepius put a comforting hand over her own trembling one. He used his powers to help her calm down and breathe properly. "Your friend is alive, Percy."
"I'm haunted by the word almost," Percy was openly crying now, though she seemed not to notice. She trembled no more; the pain was still there, but more controlled. "I almost died. I almost made the first best friend I've ever had die."
"Remove the empathy link," Asclepius told her. As if she had not thought about it already.
But truth was, the damage was already done. Grover was suffering because of her, he knew how she felt, what she thought, what her nightmares were about. He was being haunted by the war too, only that it was all because of her.
"It has to be done face to face," Percy said, though she didn't want the empathy link removed for the same reason she hadn't wanted it all those years ago. She wanted to be able to know when Grover was in trouble, to help him.
"And?" Asclepius raised his eyebrows. "What's the matter with that?"
Percy didn't answer, too shameful.
The god of medicine understood after a while the reason for her silence. While she was sure she was never getting into another life-threatening mission that could hurt both of them, the thought of seeing him after all that happened scared her.
"How am I supposed to see him after hurting him so much?" Percy breathed out. "I haven't seen him nearly a year. And it's because I'm too scared to face him."
"What are you scared of?"
Percy swallowed hard. She hated it when Asclepius started asking questions that made her open up. It was easier when he just nodded and smiled and said pointless words of reassurance.
"Do you think he's angry at you?" Asclepius asked again.
Percy shook her head. Words were extremely hard for her in that moment, though the god in the room was actually quite patient and waited without any annoyance until she could collect her thoughts and her emotions.
"I know he's not angry at me."
And that was exactly the problem. Grover was supposed to be angry at her; he should hate her, he should want her gone from his life!
But he did not. He still saw her as his best friend, he still loved her.
Asclepius gave her the now-familiar look of sympathy that she despised with her whole life. More so when she knew that he had read her mind- invaded her very personal thoughts- just to know what was wrong.
It made her slightly angry.
"My dear child-"
The green-eyed demigoddess flinched. Most gods used that endearment to talk with demigods, though she could only think of her own father, who had been way too absent from her life for a long time. When he needed her the most, she had been there for him, fighting his battles. When she needed him the most, he wasn't there.
"Sweet girl," Asclepius corrected himself. "Don't drown yourself in guilt when no one is blaming you for anything. You are not to blame for anything-"
She drowned his voice out.
How could anyone not blame her?
She had hurt everyone, from the very beginning of her demigod life.
Her mother, her step-father, her boyfriend, her best friends: Grover and Annabeth, her fellow campers from Camp Half-Blood: Clarisse, Travis, Connor, Pollux, not to mention those she couldn't save: Bianca, Zoë, Castor, Beckendorf, Michael, Silena, Ethan.
All those nameless demigods from both Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter that participated in both wars and died, all those nameless demigods that joined the wrong forces and ended up being punished, the reason for their betrayal being their pain at being abandoned by their godly parents. A pain she know knew.
All of them so young, with a future ahead of them.
And it was all her fault.
Asclepius often said she had no reason to feel guilty, that she had done the best she could during those awful times...
It was never enough; nothing could ever appease the hollow feeling of letting your friends down, of hurting them, or watching them die.
Percy was full of guilt, and nothing could make her feel better.
She wasn't focused for the rest of their session, so when it ended and he moved forwards to hug her, she was surprised, instantly focusing on her surroundings and on him. She wondered what made him hug her, but couldn't complain- his body was warm and comforting, and in some twisted way, it made her think of Apollo's own hugs.
His strong arms made her feel safe and secure even on the darkest of times.
"Thank you," Percy whispered a little. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
When she looked into Asclepius eyes, the same feeling of emptiness settled at her chest, followed by the never-ending guilt eating away at her stomach. He looked a lot like his father, though while Apollo chose to look like a young man, Asclepius looked like an old man.
He shook his head. "There's important business I have to attend in Olympus tomorrow. I can schedule our nest session for next week, is that alright for you?"
Gods business never lasted so long, not a whole week. It made the raven-haired demigoddess worry, though she had convinced herself that she was never, ever getting into another one of those godly problems. Part of her wondered if it had to do with the sun god.
"That's okay," Her voice was quiet, it must've made Asclepius notice her worry, because next thing she knew, he was looking at her in wonder.
The medicine god hesitated for a moment, knowing that he wasn't allowed to divulge personal information about his father to anyone, much less to that specific demigoddess. At the end, he decided to take the risk, knowing that his father would appreciate him for doing so.
"It's starting," Asclepius said.
"When?" Percy didn't need to ask what he was talking about, some part of her already knew.
"I'm not supposed to tell you anything-"
Percy grabbed his elbow, stopping him from leaving. If he attempted to disappear now, he would end up vaporizing her.
Percy's eyes were wide and pleading, he could almost see the sea on them. The same way he could always see the sea in Poseidon's eyes.
Asclepius looked away from those sea-green eyes, deciding to concentrate on the wall and not on the way he could almost feel Zeus' lightning bolts coming down at him for what he was doing.
"I'm not asking much of you, Lord Asclepius" Percy's voice was soft and quiet, as if telling a secret to each other. "I trust you realize how important this is to me."
That's when he knew she would never give up until he answered her. She was being respectful, she was smart enough to know she had to show him some respect, but there was something else hidden on her voice.
Though he would never admit it, on that moment, he was a little hesitant to come near her again, for he was a little frightened. He wasn't sure she knew what she was doing, but her eyes were glaring at him in such a way that his lungs failed to work for a second, her own eyes darkening a little.
It was then when he could literally see the sea on her; restless and wild, untamed and dangerous.
Asclepius could then see why his father- he who with a single arrow could wipe out entire civilizations, who was the bringer of the plague, who had been restlessly feared by the ancient Greeks during the Trojan war, who had murdered mortals who offended him without any hesitation or remorse- could fall in love with a simple semi-mortal girl.
The darkness that they harbored inside of them was very similar.
"Apollo's punishment is one that has been inflicted on him before," Asclepius pried her hands off his elbow. "And that's all I can afford to say."
Percy scowled.
That much, she already knew. What she could not find anywhere was what the punishment itself consisted of.
"Tell me how you died," She decided to stop beating around the bush, tired of being respectful and shy with him. "You know I read the letter. We both know it was not from Artemis."
He refused to answer, because 1) It was a very personal question, 2) Percy would understand immediately what was going to happen to Apollo, which 3) would make Zeus punish him for divulging that information.
She insisted, her scowl deepening. In that moment, she was the most selfish demigoddess he had ever seen, because not even when he told her Zeus had prohibited him for saying much to her, she kept insisting that she had to know.
That was her fatal flaw. Loyal to those she loved even when she was not supposed to.
"It's all I ask from you, Lord Asclepius." Annoyance crossed her eyes, her very limited patience wearing short. "It's better if you just answer already."
She was more angry at Zeus for forbidding her something than at him for denying her wishes.
It was then that Asclepius could definitely see them together. The sun that was too bright, too hot- the sun that caused cities to fall dehydrated, the sun that burned the skin off some people and set stuff on fire. And she, the ocean that started off as playful and teasing, but that ended drowning everything on its path, the ocean that castes its waves to crash against the shore, against boats, against everything. The sun and the ocean that were too selfish, too self-centered.
Percy retreated a little, sighing in defeat. It was late and she was too tired to keep insisting. The next day was a school day, so she needed to rest.
"At least tell me that Apollo is going to be okay-"
She forgot that names had power, and the easiest way to make a god notice you was to mention their name. Only that it was the wrong god that heard her question.
Lightning fell on the bunk of a tree close to them, making the young demigoddess' heart jump.
Asclepius glanced at the sky, then down at her with flaring eyes. "Do you really care enough about him to be asking that?" The question was cold, a hint of anger on his voice.
Percy took another step back, never expecting the kind god to look at her in that way. She blinked, a familiar feeling burning at her stomach and making her feel as though she had swallowed acid. Then she was right in front of the god, her rage making her seem taller than she was.
"What do you even know about us?" Percy glared at him. How could he be like that? How could he be angry at her for wanting to know about Apollo? How could he be so selfish? How could Zeus be so stupid? "What do you even know about my feelings?"
Asclepius looked as though he was ready to murder here with his bare hands, though before he could even move, another thunder shook the earth, this time closer to them. A warning for both of them: enough.
"You're lucky everyone knows you as the Heroine of Olympus," There was nothing kind about him now, not even his eyes. "Otherwise we would've struck you down already for your instability."
Gods never liked demigods who rebelled against them, much less if they couldn't control their emotions and their urges to do wrong.
Percy barely had enough time to shield her eyes before he showed his real form in front of her. When the light ceased and she moved her hands away from her eyes, he was gone. On his wake, he left a trail of burned ground where the garden was.
It took her a second to process the truth behind his words, and almost a minute to realize that she had angered the only god that tried to help her.
A groan left her mouth, and she collapsed against the porch's columns.
She stayed there for about a minute, hating herself for how she was, when a familiar- yet different- smell reached her nose.
The town of Mystic Falls was full of that awful smell that made Percy's body react and fill with adrenaline, the same smell that made her senses jump and prepare for a fight. Two months inhaling that monster powder and she was almost used to it; the human body had the talent of ignoring an unpleasant smell after having too much of it.
Part of her thought that she was being paranoid, that being so stressed made her nose notice that smell again after ignoring it for so long.
But then a shiver went down her spine, and she knew it was real.
She was being watched, someone was playing with her.
In an instant, she was standing on her feet again. One of her hands moved towards her pockets, taking Riptide out before anything could happen. It was neither of the Salvatore brothers, their stench she had already memorized. This person- this vampire- was older and more powerful than them.
His stench had almost a royal touch to it.
The others often smelt like cheap copies of death and danger. This one made her think of Thanatos and Hades, this one felt real.
She could almost taste his power, it was all around the air. It made the reckless part of her rejoice- those two months without any danger had been too boring- and the other part, the one that still managed to think clearly, worry.
How could a vampire feel so powerful?
Unless... She refused to accept that thought, concerned and startled at the same time. An Original.
The green-eyed demigoddess kept her voice neutral and calm, her features collected. The least she wanted was to look scared when that particular monster felt so dangerous, so powerful.
"It is awfully impolite to spy on a teenage girl." She sighed a little. "Care to introduce yourself..." She hesitated for a moment, then decided to test her luck. "-Elijah?"
Before her eyes, a figure emerged from the shadows.