Chapter Text
"Go to Tartarus, Seaweed-brain!" Annabeth spat, staring daggers at him. He could no longer remember what they were fighting about, but the insult made him feel like she'd just drove her dagger through his chest. They'd been through Tartarus and back, together, and had barely survived. If they didn't have each other, they probably wouldn't have survived, but it no longer felt like they were together anymore. Arguments between the pair became an almost daily occurrence and they were seldom happy when together. Percy hadn't wanted to give up hope, tirelessly putting all of his effort into fixing their relationship, but it hadn't worked, and now he was exhausted.
"They were all right; children of Athena and Poseidon will never work together!" Percy shouted back, irritated at his girlfriend.
"You're right, Percy! I was obviously delusional. We're done."
"Good." Percy snapped back as he stormed away. He tried to act happy, but he felt as though a part of him had just died. He'd just the lost the only thing that had kept him sane through Tartarus, and afterwards. They weren't a couple anymore, just two people again. Tears pricked his eyes and he wiped them away furiously.
He thundered towards his cabin, slamming the door behind him. As soon as he was alone, he broke down into tears. He curled into a ball on the floor, wishing he could rip his heart from his chest. The pain he'd kept locked away for years suddenly came flowing out, spilling down his face in the form of tears and burdening his heart. His head pounded mercilessly and he made ugly noises, trying to keep the sobs down.
After crying for what seemed like an age, Percy gained some of his composure. He wiped the tear stains from his face and straightened himself, though the pain in his heart did not fade. It throbbed, as agonising as ever, tempting him to lay down and cry once more. The son of Poseidon knew he had nothing left inside of him to cry out, but he had to find a way to vent his anger and despair.
Hoping a walk might vanquish the anger boiling inside him, Percy marched out of his cabin and across the camp. He followed his feet, unsure where his final destination would be, but barely caring. Other campers shot him confused or anxious looks, obviously having overheard his argument with Annabeth. Or maybe the rumours had already started. Percy didn't care. He didn't have the effort to care. If he eyes were bloodshot, or if his face was still stained with tears, why should that matter? He didn't care if they thought he was worse than Kronos or Gaia. He just didn't care about anything anymore, other than banishing the unbearable pain in his chest.
Finally, Percy came to a stop. He scanned the room, taking a moment to realise he'd ended up in a weaponary storage room. Feeling anger bubble up inside him, he grabbed a nearby dagger pouch and unsheathed it. He stared at his reflection in the bronze blade, hating himself more than he could ever describe. For a moment, he understood why people always wanted to kill him, as he wanted to hurt and torture himself too. Without another thought, he forced the anger at himself, at Annabeth, at Gaia, Kronos and the gods into his movements and took it out on himself. The blade's edge sunk into the skin just below his elbow. Crimson blood spilled out of the gash, trickling down his arm and dropping to the floor. Percy made several more incision in his arm, moving further upwards, rather than downwards, in hopes of concealing the damage in the future. Not like he cared anyway.
Black dots formed before his eyes and Percy dropped the blade. The sound of it clattering to the floor made Percy snap awake, his full focus on the matter at hand. Breathing deeply in attempt to stop himself from passing out due to blood loss, Percy tugged his shirt over his shoulders and ripped the material, a throbbing pain pulsing through his left arm as he tried. A cry of pain caught in his throat and tears gathered in his eyes, the black spots reforming once more. He steadied himself on the nearby wall until the dizziness passed, before tying one part of the material around his wounded arm, covering each slash. With the other piece of his torn up shirt, he cleaned the bronze blade and the floor, before slipping out of the room and quickly hurrying back to his cabin.
To his relief, he managed to pass unseen- even if he claimed he didn't care, it would have been embarassing to get caught shirtless with the tattered remains of his shirt tied like a bandage around self-inflicted wounds- and arrived safely back at his cabin. He soaked some material in the fountain and cleaned his wounds, wondering if the water would heal them. It didn't and he was almost pleased, though he couldn't seem to figure out why.
After cleaning the wound, he re-bandaged it and found a clean shirt. Feeling slightly better, yet exhausted, he collapsed onto his bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow, Percy slipped into a dreamless sleep.