Percy Jackson Stark

Alternate Ending

i'm not going to apologize for what happened in the last chapter.

note: i have no idea what happens here, because for some reason i was talking to my friend while i wrote this, so like yeah. (it means i have no idea what happens)

also don't come at me for being very inspired by Loki and Bucky in the chapters that are going to come, i've always found what happened to them.... influential i think. *winky face*
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Percy (I wrote his name and thought "finally.")

Percy was nearly blinded by light when he woke up. It was a very bright place. But... what was this place? Trying to sit up, saw he wasn't in the weird big- oh no. He thought and looked around for his mom. Then he remembered he wasn't in the big room. Panicking, he looked at his hands and saw they weren't watering anymore. A thousand questions swam around his mind. What had happened? Where was he? What happened to his mom? Was she dead? Because of him? But if he didn't really want to flood the place, and it happened against his will, was it his fault? Convincing himself that it wasn't his fault, he sat up. He was in sort of basement. It was huge place, but around him, were walls of glass. Percy knew they weren't JUST glass. Freaking out, he looked around. He was crammed against the joint where two walls met. The walls were as tall as the ceiling. The weird thing was that there was nothing holding him back, but he couldn't move.

"so kid," a voice said. "I heard you killed your mom."

Percy saw an old guy cleaning the floor only a few feet away from him. "I did what?"

"they're saying you killed your mom," the guy said. "an insider told them that they told you they'd kill you, or your mom. Then you flooded the place and killed her. To live yourself."

"what?" Percy asked. "who's the insider?"

"I don't know kid, I'm just a janitor." The old man said. "even if I knew, why would I tell you? Murderer." He mumbled the last word under his breath. "all I can say is that you were passed out for two days. And your dad believes this insider."

Then he left. Percy forgot how to breathe. He was confused. He was scared. He felt guilty. He remembered what he'd told his mom in the cell before the day she died. I thought I might get you killed. And I couldn't've lived with that. He leaned back and closed his eyes. The word "murderer" echoed in his mind. Part of him wanted to break the glass and tell everyone they were wrong. Part of him wanted to stay there and cry and punch himself until he died. Another part of him wanted to do both. The fourth part just felt empty. He decided to live in the fourth part. He wanted to be empty. He didn't want feel. He remembered his mom's face before she told him she loved him. Before she... before she died. Percy wiped a tear before it escaped. He wanted to cry so bad. The room seemed to be getting smaller. He wanted to stab himself and just die. But he wanted to tell everyone it wasn't his fault. He wanted to be tough. He wanted to give up, but he knew couldn't. Not now. Not now. Not now. (I was listening to In My Blood and Lovely while writing till now. Here are the results.)

Then he broke. He buried his head between his knees. And he cried. Until he couldn't. He didn't want to stop. It made him feel good. But it was starting to hurt now. He wanted to go to the beach. He wanted to look at the moon. He wanted to watch the stars twinkle. He wanted his mom to be alive. He wanted so many things. He was shaking, and he didn't know why. He tried to stop crying, but somehow he couldn't. Trying not to choke himself, he cried himself to sleep.

(time skip)

The next time Percy woke up, there was something on his right wrist. And the blood from his wrist to his fingertips felt like ice. And his fingertips were red-ish purple. He couldn't move his fingers, and when he tried they hurt. Percy grabbed his own hand with a painful "ah!". Leaving it alone, he looked around. He'd never felt so physically weak. Even after everything had happened to him. And he saw the old janitor looking at him again. But this time his eyes were filled with pity, not disgust. Percy didn't like it. He never liked it when people pitied him.