PERSEUS MEANS DESTROYER

Pork Soda

Why can't we laugh now like we did then?

How come I see you and ache instead?

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"IT'S NOT FAIR!" He was screaming. But he wasn't sure it was him screaming. "IT'S NOT FUCKING FAIR AND IT NEVER IS— I NEVER—" there was a gagging sound, and he spun around, distorted light giving way to distorted imagery, giving way to something.

The voice that was and wasn't his choked back a cough and a sob and a hiccough, "it's not—"

Percy beat his fists against someone's chest. "It's not fair." His voice was softer than he had meant for it to come out, but he hadn't meant to say anything at all.

The Percy that wasn't Percy looked to the Percy that was Percy with something like vague recognition, like he knew the other him was there. He faded or melted or maybe just grew back into the floor and the Percy that was Percy was alone again.

The floor vanished beneath him, and he was floating in the ocean. He recognized the coral formations and the sea floor well enough to know it was near Poseidon's palace. And while he could feel his lungs burning for air, knew his face was probably turning red, and even though he knew he couldn't drown, not with Poseidon as his father, not after he'd survived so many too-long underwater trips in the past, he couldn't open his mouth to let the water in.

He couldn't do it, and he wouldn't until he had no other choice. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed that he'd be out of the water when they opened, but he wasn't and he still needed oxygen.

Percy startled awake, gasping for air.

His hands flew up to his face and throat, as if feeling for something that wasn't there anymore. Riptide fell off the couch with a clatter, and the sound made Percy flinch, leaning across the couch and scooping the pen up off the ground, tucking it into his track pants pocket.

"Hey," Annabeth murmured. "Good morning."

Percy started again at her voice, but visibly relaxed when he turned enough to see her face.

"I'm waiting for Chiron; I didn't want to wake you up to go look for him, so we just stayed here for a bit. It's probably lunch in the dining pavilion if you wanted to go...?"

"Can you come with me?" He said softly, but not softly enough for Annabeth to miss the scratchy undertone that made it sound like he'd been shouting. "I don't have my... my crutch."

She smiled, and he could see the skin at the corners of her eyes crinkled. "Sure. And then I'll get your crutch and you can come with me to find Chiron?"

Percy winced when Annabeth led him out to the porch. "Gods, I— I'm sorry, did I—?"

Annabeth sighed, "yeah. It's kinda why I'm looking for Chiron."

"Is anyone hurt? I thought I— I thought it was just near me, not over the whole camp—"

"Everyone's fine." She reached up slightly to touch his cheek. "A few people are a little worried that the barrier might be faltering..." she sighed and rolled her eyes in the way he knew meant she was annoyed, "obviously, it's not, but I got Malcolm to check for me, 'just in case', and he says there isn't anything wrong."

"But what if they weren't? What if someone is hurt, because I lost— because I lost control, again?"

"Percy, Tarta—" she swallowed carefully, trying not to give away her discomfort. "Tartarus was... different. Come on, you know that. And I don't blame you for it."