For we once so loved the world by HowlingDarkness95

Chapter 14

Percy ran his hand over his forehead, wiping the sweat off. He breathed heavily, his chest heaving with exertion as sweat dripped down his body. He had thrown his shirt somewhere else about an hour earlier, since it was looking more like a wet piece of rag instead of a proper shirt now.

He grabbed a towel off the railing he had set it on, choosing to wipe his body in the traditional method rather than use his powers. "JARVIS," he asked, looking towards the ceiling, "What time is it?"

"It is currently forty-seven minutes past six in the morning mister Jackson."

Percy nodded silently; he had been training for slightly more than three hours since he woke at three in the morning. Excluding that little unplanned fiasco with Loki, he grumbled to himself.

Percy walked out of the gym, instructing JARVIS to switch off the lights. He paused outside the lift, guilt creeping into his stomach. He hesitated, not knowing whether or not to go with his idea but then he cursed, "Fuck this. And fuck my fatal flaw. JARVIS, living room, now."

"Are you sure you do not want to put on a shirt first sir?"

Percy looked down and cursed, then darted from the gym to his room to grab a shirt and back to the lift within the span of two minutes.

He leaned against the lift wall, before furrowing his brows, "Hey JARV? Is anyone awake now?"

"Mr Rogers is on the roof, sir and mister Banner are both in the labs. Agents Romanov and Barton are still on their own floor. Mister Odinson is currently still asleep." Came the British-accented reply.

Percy nodded his thanks, then paused, "Which Odinson exactly?"

"Thor is the one that is still asleep Mr Jackson."

Percy shrugged then made a beeline for the kitchen, trying not to seem as though he was sneaking around. The soft rays of the sun lit up the living room dimly as Apollo began his daily ritual. Though, knowing him, Percy thought, smirking slightly, he probably set the chariot on autopilot.

He quickly walked to the kitchen, yanking open all the cupboard doors until he found his favorite pancake mix. A small smile adorned his face, chasing away the shadows that had lingered there. It was soon wiped away by a scowl. I'm getting soft, he thought, pouring water into the mix, this, domestic feeling. It's so different from camp, from the fights, the wars.

He finished mixing the batter, spooning some of it onto a pan, expertly flipping them over to make the pancakes. He missed camp. As much as he didn't want to even think about it, he missed his old life. True, it was tiring, being chased by monsters every time he stepped out of the camp's borders, having to worry and fight for your life every minute, seeing your friends die in front of you, but it was something he knew. Running around with monsters chasing after him, suffering broken bones, burns, poisons, it was familiar territory, as painful and pathetic as that sounded, it was familiar, routine, and you got used to it after awhile, learning to appreciate the little things when you spend most of your time running away from death. He missed all of his friends and as much as he hated to admit it, he still missed her, even after what she had done.

Percy didn't want to forgive her, nor did he think he could right now. But it didn't erase the fact that she was one of his oldest friends, and that they had gone through so much together. You couldn't just forget years of friendship and fighting alongside each other with a snap of your fingers. You didn't just forget how it felt to fight back to back when surrounded by different monsters and the stench of blood in the air. Unless you were Hera, or the River Lethe then yeah, memories could be taken away easily.