Who We Used to Be

After Annabeth's death in Tartarus, Percy wanted nothing more than to join her. But he knew he couldn't do that, not when the fate of the world and the survival of all of his remaining friends and family rested squarely on his shoulders. So he came up with a plan: a plan that would solve all of his problems and finally allow him to rest in peace and start over again without the torture of his past hanging over his head. It was a plan that, just for the record, worked perfectly. Gaea was gone, and he was dead. Everything was fine.

And then he woke up.

After all, no plan he could ever create would account for Leo shooting him with a dart gun filled with a potion capable of bringing people back from the dead.

So he's alive again, and he wants nothing more than to be allowed to just die. Why was that so hard for everybody? His cousins understand. Come to think of it, they probably understand a bit too much to be considered completely mentally healthy. But who's completely sane nowadays anyway? He certainly wasn't.

Percy knew the gods wouldn't allow their saviour to escape immortality for a second time, so he made a deal.

A deal that made doing the laundry very, very difficult. And a deal, that just so happened to catch the attention of the wrong sort of government.