A/n:

Sorry this is late, I was really, really busy yesterday with school work and the like.

As you probably know (if you don't you need to read the first chapter) the first chapter was about when 'it' (get your minds out the gutter, this is serious fic) happened, this chapter will be about the repercussions or aftershocks. How Percy deals with what happened. A brutal, reasonless terrorist attack is very different than a war with reasons, at least in the wars no-one was ever truly defenceless. Well I hope you like this.

Percy P.O.V

It had been six days.

Six days since I was shot.

Six days since I saved a life.

Six days since 13 died.

Six days since I failed to save 13.

They told me, one day after 'it', happened that I was shot in the side and in the upper half of my thigh. They told me a lot of detail about how the bullets entered me, how they ripped through my fragile body like I was paper and then how one of them burst out. Then they told me about how they had cut open my side and taken out the bullet fragments. They told me all thin in great detail.

All I knew was that it hurt.

A lot.

Annabeth tried to talk to me, said I did all I could and that I was a hero. I was really sick of being hero.

I'd been a hero since I was 12 years old, six years of heroism and it's getting really old.

And now, with all that training, out of 14 people I could only save one! I am the freaking HERO OF OLYMPUS I should be able to save people from some stupid mortals, some stupid, weakling mortals and yet I stood by and let them die!

Chiron said that I did everything I could, that if I'd used my powers every demi-god on earth would be hunted. That I was a brave person to jump in front of the young mother, I was told her name was Amelia and that her daughter was called Penny. They told me that when they came to visit on the second day, the day when I was fully conscious.

~~Flash back~~

I had just woken up, my side and leg hurt like Tartarus, it was still burning as if someone was holding a torch to my side. The agony was intense, the doctors said I was the strongest person they'd ever met, that I should still be blacked out from the pain and that I was a true soldier to fight fight the pain even when they couldn't give me pain-killers for fear that they aggravated my wounds even more. I was sick of being a soldier too.

The papers called me brave and noble, I felt cowardly and weak. They called it an amazing sacrifice, I called it my duty, and the least of it at that. Damn my ADHD brain for wandering.

I just wanted to sleep, then they came in.

The little girls innocence seemed almost lost. It wasn't fair. She shouldn't see that sort of thing. Not ever.

And the woman seemed scared, as if I was terrifying.

"H-hello." She stammered, clearly nervous. I didn't feel like it but I smiled at her non-the-less, the fact that she was still here for her daughter was the only good thing I did that day, I wasn't going to ruin it now.

"Hello." I said back, my voice was slightly raspy from disuse and my body felt like it was being torn apart by every movement, but I tried to be reassuring anyway.

"I guess I should say thank you. Thank you for saving my life." Once she said the words and I smiled back she looked as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

"Of course, it was the least I could do." That statement seemed to confuse her.

"But-but why? You're only eighteen. Why jump in front of a bullet for me." I looked her straight in the eyes.

"Because you have so much to live for, a whole life and a young child. So much to live for, so much joy and innocence."

"You say that as if you don't. You're only eighteen." I just looked at her. Then Penny piped up.

"Does that hurt." She asked this so innocently, I thought maybe that her innocence may just survive.

"A little, but it's worth it and I can ignore it. Are you ok."

"Yeah. Mummy says that's because of you." She was thoughtful for a moment, "Thank oo." Her five year old accent was adorable, it made me forget my troubles for a moment. Maybe thing would be alright.

"Of course little one."

"Is there anything we can do to help you?" The mother-Amelia-was genuinely asking.

"No, maybe just visit once in a while. Please."

"Of course."

~~End Flash Back~~

That conversation had really helped me and the mother and daughter came and visited every day after that, bringing Penny's father on the last three days. He talked to me alone and thanked me profusely for saving his family. He was a war veteran, Afghanistan, he said that I was as brave as some of the soldiers out there then gave me a weird look and asked if I'd seen combat, apparently I had the haunted look of some of the veteran commanders who'd seen the worst of it.

'Some', I'd said, but I'd be completely fine and it was nothing. He had looked at me for a moment and I'd been scared he was going to push it and shifted uncomfortably in place only to groan in pain as the agony tore through my side. My groan snapped him back and he thanked me again before leaving, he treated me with profound respect after that.

Over the next three days I was confined to the hospital bed, mum and Paul came visiting, so did Dad and some of the other Olympians. Apollo said I's have some scars, but I'd heal and the pain would fade eventually. I said it was fine-again-I'd been through worse. Campers came as well, Romans and Greeks, even the hunters and Artemis. They all said I was brave and did a great thing.

Today I can finally get out of bed, I'm going to walk on crutches, in a month or two I'd be able to walk slowly unaided and month or so after that I'd be able to walk and move like I did before, barely even any phantom pains should haunt me, after everything I'd been through I knew I'd be fine.

In half a month a journalist wants to come talk to me about what happens, I'm just going to tell him the truth, cutting out the parts about demi-gods.

My friends kept saying I had been brave and done a great thing, and, although I grieved and felt guilty for not being able to save the other 13, I had saved one. I'd made sure a young girl still had a mother and a man still had a wife, I'd kept a family together and I was proud.

Terrible thing had happened, but good had happened too.

Yes 13 had died, but 23 had survived.

It was a tragedy, and we need to remember the victims, those who have fallen, but we need to live in the present. Remember those who have died, but live for those who survived.

A/n:

There you go, that is the end of my two-shot. I hope you liked it. I am actually kind of proud of it.

I'm considering doing a sequel about how people treat Percy at school after this because I like the story line but it may not happen. I tried to do this justice and I hope I succeeded. #prayforParis