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The battle was over. Dust covered the battlefield so much so you could barely see the ground.
But Percy couldn’t care less that he won. Because he didn’t. How can you call this a victory, when Annabeth is laying there, with the expression of shock and pain, forever cold and lifeless. How can you call such a loss anything but defeat.
He felt himself crumble as he kneeled to her, unable to even say a word. There were too many feelings to feel, too many thoughts to think. He closed Annabeth’s eyes, trying to keep his own open, as tears blinded him. Once again he was nothing but a lost little boy, against the world that was not going to be kind to him. Once again he felt as if life is and will be bland.
He felt Athena appear, and his grief turned to anger almost instantly. Maybe if she didn’t talk, he would’ve not had the ability to even look at her, with how desperate he felt.
“That was your fault, Perseus Jackson” Athena said, her voice ringing in his ears like a sheet of metal hit with a hammer, “I entrusted you this mission, I trained you, and you seem to be failing at every step. This is what happens, when a general is emotional rather than logical. Perhaps, I should chose another”
Percy felt as if he was on fire, as if instead of blood in him was molten lava. He has never been this angry in his life. The ground started shaking slightly, letting out small drops of water everywhere.
“You are no better than any other of the gods” he said, barely holding himself together, “all you care about is that you stay in power, and that you don’t get hurt. You take responsibility only when backed into a corner, and even then you manage to avoid it by all means. It’s us who has to clean up your messes, us who have to bury those we love and care about, and us who keep on dying. I considered you an ally. But you can go and find another pawn for your game for all I care. There’s nothing you can do that would scare me, after all. I’ve been to Tartarus, but this - this is worse”
Athena clenched her fists. Percy prepared to be smited, killed with the fierceness and pain that only the most proud goddess can inflict. But instead she kept talking.
“You are delusioned by grief. We were never going to be on that level, for me to be your ally, but I did put effort into teaching you to be a greater warrior then you ended up being”
“Well,” Percy cut her off, water forming around him, healing his wounds, helping him stand and raise his voice, “at least I had something. Someone. At least my life is not spent chasing shadows in an attempt to stay on people’s minds. I didn’t accept immortality because I didn’t want to end up like you. I didn’t want to ever end up alone in my life”
He looked down, at Annabeth’s lifeless body. If he was to die now, courtesy of her mother, at least he could die near her. At least he wouldn’t have to keep on living without her.
Athena spoke again, and surprisingly, her voice was shaking. He looked up and saw that her gaze is just as fixed on Annabeth. For a second there Athena wasn’t a goddess, but a grieving mother, one that lost so many children, but never accepted that fate for any of them. But she was still what she was. No amount of grief could change that.
“I don’t expect you to understand. I don’t expect any mortal to understand. But remember, Perseus, you are Poseidon’s son. And this is where our paths divide. If we ever meet again, you would not be more to me than one of many halfbloods. No more special”
With that, Athena disappeared. And hearing Grover’s hurrying steps somewhere down the road, coming to him, Percy wiped his face with his hand and picked Annabeth up.