I woke up with a gasp and a sharp pain in my head. Will was standing over me, waving a flashlight in front of my eyes. Will?

"Finally, I was beginning to wonder when you'd wake up. Here," he said, handing me a piece of ambrosia. I took the medicine, unsure of what was happening.

"Will?!" I asked disbelievingly.

"Yeah? Your head should be feeling better by the end of the day," he said casually. "What are you looking at? Eat your medicine!"

I jumped from the cot and fiercely hugged him. "I can't believe this! Gods, I missed you so much!"

Will laughed awkwardly and patted my head. "Haha, uh I think you hit your head a bit harder than we thought. You sure you're feeling ok?"

"Don't worry about it, Will. He's always a dork. I figured you would know this by now," said somebody entering the room. Casey looked just like she had the last time I saw her.

"Glad you're awake, sleeping beauty. I need you to come train with me," she said. "Nobody else is competent enough."

I felt tears springing to my eyes. I opened my arms to hug her but she grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me from the building before I could.

We left the infirmary and stepped out onto the lawn of Camp Half Blood. Campers ran past, laughing and fighting. I could see Adora playing with a few other kids at the beach. Mom held Oscar in her lap as she had lunch with Dad in the pavillian. They waved at us as we passed but said nothing more.

I couldn't speak as I took it all in. Nothing had changed. We finally reached the training center. I felt light headed. So much was happening at once. I was home. How did I get home? This didn't feel right. Where were the others? What about the war? But as I thought about it, the memories slipped from my head. There was no war.

"You've been knocked out for like three hours, and I didn't even hit you that hard! That's the last time we ever play capture the flag on seperate teams," Casey said.

"What?"

Casey cast me a sarcastic look. "Did you seriously forget what happened? Oh, come on! The one time I beat you, and you forget it?"

I shook my head. "I don't know, how did I get here? When did I get back?" I asked.

Casey shrugged. "Well, it's June 25th now, so we got to camp two weeks ago? I don't know; I'm not doing math. Last night we were playing capture the flag and I hit you over the head with a mace. You, stupidly might I add, were too busy staring into the sunset to dodge, so I clobbered you in the face. You've been out since last night."

I halted at the training center gate. "Wait, what about Tartarus?"

Casey frowned and mockingly pressed her hand to my forehead as if checking for a fever. "What about it? Man, you must have had some wacky dream."

A dream? I looked down. It wasn't what I expected to see. There were no scars on my arms. Arms, as in plural. I had both of my arms. I tried to think back to how I'd lost my right arm but the memory was already fading. Like a dream. But how had all been a dream? That seemed so impossible; I knew Tartarus was real. But now I just couldn't remember it. There weren't any voices in my head, and I felt ok. I actually felt good.

"That's all it was?" I muttered. "A nightmare."

"Sorry about your dreams buddy but we've got to train Leo's kid how to hold a sword. Seriously, the dude is a complete idiot," Casey complained.

I huffed, trying to ignore the nagging feeling in the back of my head. I got a flash of images, my hands intertwined with those of a curly haired boy, and his body shadowing mine as I taught him how to fight. It vanished as soon as it appeared.

Standing in the middle of the field was Charlie Valdez. He looked bored as he leaned against the post and scrolled through his phone. My heart skipped a beat or two when I saw him.

"Charlie!" I called, a grin taking over my face.

Charlie looked up and scanned the area, his eyes finally landing on me. He looked confused for a moment. "You're Jackson, right?" he asked in a bored tone.

My smile fell. I realized then that I had no idea why I'd been so relieved to see him. I didn't even know Charlie. He only got to Camp ike a week ago with Leo, and he was a sarcastic snob who obviously wanted nothing to do with this life.

"It's Jason," I corrected coolly.

Casey rolled her eyes. "I don't know why Dad thought it would be a good idea to have you training him."

"Me neither. But whatever. Once I'm done with this I can get back to California," Charlie said.

Casey and I spent all day trying to train Charlie, but it was hopeless. He just wasn't made out to be a demigod. By the end of the day, I was exhausted. I had fought with Charlie so many times that day that Casey had to take me away to calm me down. So when I finally got to go back to my cabin, I went right to bed.

"Jack, you hungry?" Dad called, sticking his head in the cabin.

For some reason, the nickname sent a pang of longing through my chest. He's never called me that before…

"I'm going to take a nap, I'll grab food later. Thanks though," I murmured. I finally put my head on the pillow and closed my eyes. But as soon as my eyelids shut, I was taken back by a rush of emotions and memories.

I remembered being in Tartarus, with Charlie. I remember the feeling that overtook me as I jumped in after him. I remember holding him in my arms each night in Damasen's cabin, scared that I wouldn't be able to by the time the next night came. Charlie was my lifeline, he was the reason I made it through each day down there. He killed for me, fought with me, lived with me.

I opened my eyes and sat up on the bed. It was a dream. The whole thing was a dream. Charlie and I never fell, we never trekked through Tartarus or navigated the Labyrinth. I didn't like Charlie, I didn't love him. He didn't love me. I hardly knew him.

I shook my head to get rid of the dream's remnants. Tartarus was terrible, going through that would have been horrible, so why did I feel this way?

Reluctantly I got up to join everybody for dinner. There was no way I was going to sleep after that. I sat down next to Dad at our table. Charlie sat across from me next to his dad. I tried not to stare as he glared at me.

"How was your nap?" Dad asked.

I shrugged and bit into the steak on my plate. "Couldn't sleep. This steak is delicious."

"I know it is. If I had to choose a last meal, this might be it," Max butted in.

"I can assure you that would be a good choice, right Charlie?" I joked affectionately.

It was silent for a moment as Charlie and the others gave me a strange look. I felt a sinking pit in my stomach. It was just a dream. We'd never sat in Tartarus, eating Camp steak and trying to decide whether or not to send a note up to our families.

"What?" Charlie snapped.

"Nothing," I muttered, turning back to my food.

Why couldn't I shake this dream? No, not dream; nightmare. It was a nightmare, right?

I tried to tell myself how terrible it would have been to have actually live through that, but it just brought me back to the look on Charlie's face every time I spoke to him. I didn't know him. He didn't know me. We were nothing.

I felt my heart longing for him in my dream, my nightmare. How could I want that to be real? The more I thought about it, and the more I gazed across the table at Charlie, the more I realized that I did. What was the point of being home again if Charlie hated me?

You want it to be real?

I jumped at the sound, but nobody else seemed to realize it. I recognized the voice. Haunting memories of the worst times I knew came rushing back. The good I had been feeling slowly washed away.

Do you really want this?

No no no, how were they here? It wasn't real. It couldn't be real. I was home! I am home! I held my hands over my ears as if that would help, unable to hear the sound of my silverware clattering onto my plate. I fell backwards off the bench and hit the ground.

Charlie didn't rush over like I almost expected him to. He looked at me as if I was crazy and turned away.

At that moment, I felt broken. I had spent over nine months with him, and he didn't even know. Did I want it to be real? All the pain, the hurt, the death. No, I didn't want all that.

Charlie was safe here.

But hidden in the torture, drowning in the tears and weaved through the depression, was Charlie. His stupid little smile. The flicker of insanity in his eyes each time a monster threatened my life. How he held my hand so tight just to let me know he was there. Yes, I wanted that. And I didn't care how bad it hurt, I would have given anything to have Charlie back. My Charlie.

Then the scene faded to white. My dad's concerned face, the confused glare in Charlie's eyes.

All of it, just gone.

My eyes snapped open in time with a stick being thrown into the fire. The flame reached for me, warming the cold feeling in my heart. I wasn't at Camp anymore. I was in pain. Luke sat on a log on the other side of the fire. Grover played his reed pipes a few feet away. Charlie was standing next to me, laughing while he danced to Grover's music. I didn't feel good. Perfect.

"Charlie," I said unsurely. Charlie whipped around, his eyes glowing in concern as I spoke his name.

"Hey, what's happening?" He knelt beside me and handed me a canteen of water. I wasn't sure what to think. Camp had felt so real, but so did this.

"Jase?" Charlie took my hand. I looked up, staring into his eyes as if he could explain this all to me. It was a dream. Just a dream.

"Did you have another nightmare?" he asked.

Nightmare. It was just a dream, not a nightmare. I was home, that should have been a good thing. We were alive, we were home. But we weren't we. Charlie hated me, I hated him. I remembered the feeling I had as the dream ended. No, it wasn't a dream. A nightmare.

"I missed you," I said. I pulled him forward and kissed him long and hard.

Charlie melted like putty in my arm. "Man, you must have had some wacky dream," he said.

I smiled up at him. "You have no idea."

But I didn't explain it.