Dealing with Drama

Completing the Course

AN: I'm beginning to notice a pattern here. So far as the chapter titles are concerned.

Time: Next Day

Percy sat deep in meditation, something which was not advisable at all for patients suffering from PTSD.

He was in the middle of the ocean, alone, meditating.

Trying to follow Hestia's vague instructions. "Try to feel the power inside you. You could feel it as a demigod- maybe something in your gut- concentrate on that feeling. You might see something, or someone," she added, hesitating as she thought over her words, "you'll know when you have completed the crash course to become a god."

Percy stared at the beautiful goddess, his numb mind not comprehending her words as he started to notice the minute things about her. His ADHD was acting up again.

Hestia's warm brown eyes danced everywhere, looking everywhere but him, her eyes shining with nervousness after Percy's shouting fit that morning. He could feel himself losing control, becoming increasingly violent as the days went by. The cover he spread over his wounds was wearing thin, and his true nature erupted to the surface during times of emotional turmoil, without Annabeth there to comfort him, to hold him in her arms.

He had not felt anyone's intimate touch since he cuddled with Thalia the previous day. He was beginning to feel.... abandoned again.

His eyes traced Hestia's soft, gentle features, her angel-like visage reflecting her tender and benevolent nature. Her nimble fingers twirled around her soft, brunette hair, playing with a lock of her hair out of fear that she will upset him again. Her lightly tanned, golden skin glistened with slight sweat, the beads like small diamonds, rolling down the goddess's smooth forehead. She carried with her the soothing scent of freshly baked bread, with a soothing, smoky undertone.

Percy's heart broke at the thought that he, no, his faults, his monsters, and above all, his diseases, courtesy of his fractured mind, had caused her to feel worried and afraid.

He felt that he should have died then. All the girls would have been set free. He might have been able to unite again with Annabeth again, if, by some minuscule chance, his immortality failed to hold up.

He would not have been bound, nor would they have been. Everyone would have been free.

But nooo, he just had to go and promise them that shitty oath that he would not try anything like that again.

He cursed his stupidity. Lack of precision while committing suicide, and then that stupid promise. He should have completed everything when he had the chance, gone for the kill.

He did not have alcohol, he had drunk it all in one week, no sleeping pills, Calypso had forbidden him, no anti-depressants, which had been taken away by the girls. No medicines for his PTSD. No sir, gods did not have any medicines.

Only nectar and ambrosia, none of which worked.

Percy would have even settled for shitty little therapy, which was saying something. The first time Annabeth had taken him to see a mortal therapist, he had thrown the man out of the third floor window. The two demigods had managed to escape by the skin of their teeth, and liberal usage of the Mist.

Well, for his part, Percy was firm on his stand that they should not install such large windows in those rooms.

Well, being thrown out of windows, beaten up or killed, was an occupational hazard for mortal therapists who tried to talk about touchy subjects to sons of Poseidon who could kill Minotaurs with no training or weapons, demigods with violent tendencies, high on caffeine and whose mind was already shattered. For fuck's sake, he had literally been to hell and back.