GO FORWARD AND BE EATEN.
GO BACK AND REGRET IT FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE.
NOT MUCH OF A CHOICE, IS IT?
Hmmmmm. This is a bit sad. But I'm working on some happier stuff, so don't kill me.
"Percy?" Annabeth knocked on the door and called his name.
He had just come back home from a fight and gone straight up to their bedroom without saying anything. Annabeth was determined to find out what was going on.
"Percy, I'm coming in," she said, and opened the door.
He was lying on his back on the bed, his arm covering his eyes.
Annabeth walked over and lay on her stomach next to him.
"What's wrong?" she murmured.
"I hate this," he muttered, "I hate that I like fighting, and that I'm good at it and that it gets people hurt and killed. I hate that something that brings me pleasure, makes so many people miserable. Everyday, other people's moms and friends mourn the people that I kill, and that could just as easily have been me. But it's not. It's them. And it's my fault."
Annabeth kept quiet while he said this. She had never really understood the compassion Percy felt for his enemies. It wasn't that she was coldhearted, but she was a warrior and the lives of people trying to kill the people she loved did not weigh heavily on her heart.
But Percy, although he did love the adrenalin rush from fighting, did not like taking lives. At all.
"I hate seeing the looks on their faces when I end their lives," he continued, "seeing the fear and pain on their faces."
Annabeth saw a single tear trace his cheek. She sat up and then leaned over to kiss the spot on his face where the tear fell, tasting the salt on her lips. Percy sat up too and rested his head in the crook of her neck, his hands curled in her lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck, stroking his hair. She held him as he cried for the lost lives on both sides. He held the fate of the world on his shoulders, and she held him.
I really didn't expect it to be so . . . short. Hopefully the next one will be longer.