I had to protect Percy and Annabeth.
I was ripped to shreds by my own family. I don't know how to describe it, explaining has never been something I'm good at. It hurt. My face was pounded in my brother that I once fought with, that I once trusted.
Where do monsters, like me, go when they die in Tartarus? I become one of those gross acid-filled bubbles on the floor. It has been five years since I burst from my nasty bubble. For a while, I tried to find the Doors of Death. Now, I've given up.
I found Small Bob again and now we mostly spend our time running from my brothers. They still want my "blood" for what I did. They want me tortured because I chose good over bad, I chose to not support Gaea, I chose Percy and Annabeth.
When Percy and Annabeth were here with me I couldn't talk very well and I wasn't very smart. I have regained all my memories. Every single one. Now I talk like my old self. I wish I could see them. I wish I could see them under the stars.
There are no stars in Tartarus.
"Say hello to the stars for me," is what I said before I died.
The last thing I saw was Percy straining against the Doors of Death before they slammed shut and they went up... And up... And up.
The truth is I don't know if they made it. Percy trusted that his friends would be there to let him out, but what if they weren't? It was hurting my heart not knowing. Just give me a sign, I thought to myself every day. For five years I thought that every time I woke up, and every time I went to sleep.
The mortal world is no place for a Titan, like me. Even if I'm good, even if the only thing I want is to see the stars, even if all I want to know is if Percy and Annabeth made it out.
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The Afterlives of Olympus | PJO Oneshots
FanficThis is a compilation of a few of my personal favourite deaths from the Camp Half-Blood chronicles. No one has done something like this and I thought this fandom could use something... More. *I do not own any of the PJO or HOO characters. They belo...