Three: Memories of War, Bloodshed, and Death

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Percy P.O.V:

"Who?" Annabeth asked me, a dreamy smile on her face, her eyes blank. I felt another wave of pain pass over me as I stared into the eyes of the love of my life. She didn't even know who I was. What we were. What we meant to each other. Will looked at me sorrowfully.

"I'm sorry. Do we know each other? I'm having trouble remembering..." Annabeth said, smile slipping off of her face. It was at that moment I made my decision. Annabeth was free from the memories of war, bloodshed, and death. Her mind was no longer plagued with worry and fear. She could rest, really rest, without a single nightmare from her past. It would stay that way. She deserved to start over, forget. Long ago, she confessed that sometimes, forgetting the pain she had suffered through was what she wanted. So she would forget. I would let her forget. Even if that meant forgetting me.

I kneeled down to her and took her hand. "Your name is Annabeth Chase. I'm your friend, Percy. That's your other friend, Will. In fact, all the people here are your friends. You are a good person, Annabeth. You do good things. I know you don't remember everything right now, but you are a hero. A great hero. An architect, a creator, a master strategist and one of the bravest people in the world. You have suffered throughout your life. This is your reward, forgetting the suffering, and being left with only the good. I have to go now, but I will try to see you again. Your friends here will take care of you." This is what I told the love of my life. These words. I told her this as I held her hand, tears forming in my eyes, all of my will power directed toward not allowing my voice to crack. She looked up at me with her beautiful storm grey eyes.

"I'm a hero?" She asked me. I nodded.

"Annabeth Chase," I told her, "you are one of the greatest heroes to ever live." She smiled at that. I turned to Will.

"Take care of her, Will. Please."

"Of course, Perce. How did you get back?"

"I don't wanna talk about it. Right now I think I need to sleep. And then I'm going to visit my mom." I told him. Seeing Mom would be good. I hadn't talked to her in so long...But first I need to sleep. And a shower.

Nightmares are a bitch. No, I don't want to talk about it. No, I don't need to open up. I can just bury all my pain, right here in my heart, and then one day, I'll die. I know, very Irish of me. Either way, that plan to get sleep? Nah. But I did take a long shower. The blood and grime ran off my body in rivers. I was painfully thin and I felt week and useless. I ended up having to shower in the dark, which wasn't my best idea since the Pit was so dark. I kept thinking I was showering in blood. But it was better than looking at my mangled body. My skin ghostly pale, my body ragged with scars from knives, swords, whips, burns, brands and a thousand other things. Tartarus was Hell. Literal Hell. Nothing about that fact would change.

After my shower, I continued to stumble around in the dark, managed to find some clothes shoved under my old cabin bed and changed into them. Well, I put the shirt on backwards, but that was an easily correctable mistake. I looked abound the Posiden cabin. Oh gods. I haven't set foot in this place for almost a year. My Minotaur horn still hanging on the wall. One of the beds across the room was slightly messy, and I realized that it belonged to Tyson, who I hadn't seen since Camp Jupiter.

I sunk down to the floor, wrapping my arms around my chest. Everything began to hit me. The full amount of time that I was away. 8 months without my memory. 2 months on the Argo II. And another in the Pit. 11 months. 11 months without one of my mom's cookies. 11 months without seeing Grover. 11 months away from home. Both of my homes. I was 17 now. 11 months. Oh, my gods. I had a sibling. My mother was pregnant when I disappeared. 11 months. With that thought running through my head, I grabbed a duffle bag out of the closet, filled it with everything I had in my cabin and bolted for the door.

I ran across the camp, weaving in an out of people, knocking things over and generally causing chaos. I didn't care. I had a sibling. A brother or a sister. I almost broke the door to the Big House I opened it so fast.

"Chiron!" I yelled, beelining for his desk. He looked up and saw me, his eyes full of joy and surprise.

"Percy...I don't believe it... You're ALIVE!" Joy radiated off of his face. He wheeled himself over to me, hugging me as tight as he could.

"Everyone thinks your dead. Frank, he said you fell into Tartarus. That you never made it to the Doors..."

I smiled at him sadly. "He is correct. I never made it to the Doors. But I don't want to talk about it, not now. I want out Chiron. I want to go home. Be with my mother and Paul and my new brother or sister. I want to finish school. Please, Chiron. Let me out. I will kill any monster I come across and send any demigod I find your way but I can't keep doing this. No more war, no more quests, no more death. I don't think I can handle anymore. Please. Let me go." I looked him in the eyes, really looked at him. I let him see the broken shards of my soul, and his face wilted. He bowed his head to me.

"Perseus Jackson, it has been an honor to be your teacher. Go home. Be happy. Find peace. I will tell your friends where they can find you. There are new campers now, Percy. We will be fine. Now go." He looked at me with kind eyes. The eyes of a man who had finally had one of his prodigy students graduate into life. One who had not yet fallen into Elysium. I smiled at him.

"Thank you."

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