Love the Impossible

Chapter 16 - Octavian's P.O.V.

I shuddered. Her words... There was something about them that made me happy and sad at the same time. She needs me. She wants me. And I need and want her. A smile tugged at my face.

"Rachel-" I'm crying now too. Happy tears. Long streams of happy tears. She wants me and she needs me and I'm coming back. I'm coming home. Any other circumstances, I would never call Camp Half-Blood 'home'. But if Rachel is there and she wants me to be there with her, then it's home. Nothing else ever could be considered home after this, now that I finally know what home looks like. Since it looks like Rachel Dare, I'm okay with that.

"Yeah?" She asked, staring deeply into my soul like only she can.

"I love you" I tell her through my tears "I'm coming home"

The Iris Message ended and I began to try to undo the 'progress' I'd made on my journey. Something deep inside of me told me that I was going in the right direction, and the thought of seeing Rachel again made me keep going. I was getting really tired though. I walked by the road. Sometimes I'd blank out and almost stumble in. Sometimes my eyes would open and I'd almost be blinded by headlights.

But it was always almost. I didn't get run over. And when I finally slept, I dreamt of Rachel again. Instead of a rag doll, she was a beautiful goddess surrounded by a pillar of light. She reached out to me and said,

"Octavian, come home to me" My dream was there and gone and a flash. When I woke I kept moving. Getting closer to her. My feet were sore, my head ached. I was tired but none of it mattered, I was getting closer to my Rachel. My Rachel, before the IM, I would never have been bold enough to think of her as mine. And she thought of me as hers. It was so beautiful, the thought of telling Rachel I love her to her face instead of through postage. And she would say I love you back. Maybe the me I was yesterday would have naggy fears that she would change her mind before I got there but, at the moment, I didn't care. The world seemed to finally have found hope.

And then, I lost the hope I'd found. It was stolen from me. The suspects were hellhounds. They gave me a beating before deserting me to die. I was bloody and ripped apart, nearing camp half blood, crying out, Rachel! Rachel!

It wasn't Rachel who found me, though. Some other camper did. I don't know who, when, where. I just remember blanking out, the word Rachel on my lips. And in my dream I was the rag doll, ripped apart, stuffing flung about. I blame Toy Story for my vivid nightmares. But even nightmares couldn't hurt me. As long as Rachel was alright. Of course, I couldn't be sure, because I was unconscious and unrecognizably beaten.

And I'd been so close to having hope.

To having a happily ever after.

I guess it really is impossible for people like me.