Chapter Text
Percy lay in bed, unable to sleep. He was tossing and turning, nightmares keeping him awake. Why?
Visions flashed through his mind; Tartarus was still so raw. He had trouble sleeping these days, but what could he do? Nothing.
And it wasn’t just that, either. It was everything. Everything he’d been through in the past five years, coming back to haunt him in his dreams. And the people, too.
At first it wasn’t too bad. A face here, a memory there. It was the usual. But then it got worse, after Tartarus. Everything became more vivid.
Gabe was the first face to haunt him. He was always there, lurking in his dreams. Whether he was having one of his worst nights, back in Tartarus, back in that dark, dark, place. He was there. Or if it was a good night, maybe once a month. He was there. Always just out of reach.
Some days, he was the main character of Percy’s dreams.
When those days occurred, Percy would wake up gasping, unable to breathe, convinced he was 12 years old again, still stuck under that vile man’s control. He could hear the sounds of Gabe, shouting at his Mum. Demanding Percy hand over his money. In his dreams, it was always the same.
He couldn't get away from these memories. Because when it wasn't Gabe haunting his dreams, it was someone else, just as worse. Luke, maybe. You could have saved me. You should have saved me. But you didn't. Or Bianca. It's your fault, your fault Nico turned out the way he did. YOU made him like this. You should have saved me. Beckendorf, sometimes. Why did you leave me on that ship? You should have saved me. Always the same. Always echoing those same five words. You should have saved me. You should have saved me.
YOU SHOULD HAVE SAVED ME!!!
Percy woke in a cold sweat. So he had fallen asleep, after all. He sat up, hyperventilating. No. His hair was messy, dishevelled. His pyjamas were folded and twisted. There was a tiny light under the door to Cabin 3. Percy got out of bed, feeling a bit woozy. His knees were shaking. He rubbed his eyes so hard they left marks. Picking up Riptide from his nightstand, he looked in the mirror. He looked terrible. Bags under his eyes. Tear stains streaked down his face. He sneezed and wiped his nose. Flicking the cap off Riptide, he branded the sword out to the empty room. It was past 1am, he was sure of that. So why was there a light outside?
He slowly tiptoed towards the door. His breathing hitched when he thought he heard a voice outside. He held his breath, waiting for it to speak again. It didn't. The door creaked open. Slowly, slowly.
It was open.
And there was nothing.
Percy could see nothing. No faces, couldn't hear anything apart from his own laboured breathing and the hoot of owls in the forest. That forest, where Luke first betrayed him. When the hellhound pounced for him. When he got trapped inside the Labyrinth with Annabeth. Annabeth. Memories assaulted him. Tartarus. Oh Gods, Tartarus. Just the thought of it made him shiver.
The worst memory came back to him; Akhlys, the goddess of misery, shrieking. Percy, bending her poison to his will.
'What is this?' Akhlys shrieked.
'Poison.' Percy said. 'That's your speciality, right?'
Annabeth was scared of him. Annabeth. Scared of him. He couldn't bear the thought of it. The memories became harsher; more vivid. He knelt to the ground, hands over his ears, trying to block out the sounds of Annabeth, desperately calling his name.
'Percy!'
'Stop...'
He didn't want to stop. He wanted to choke this goddess. He wanted to watch her drown in her own poison. He wanted to see just how much misery Misery could take.
'Percy, please...'
"STOP!" Percy sobbed, back to the present. He was on his hands and knees, shaking violently. "STOP! Please... just... stop..." He was running out of energy. His sobs dissipated, turning to desperate whimpers. He collapsed. He couldn't deal with it anymore. Silent tears ran down Percy's face as he lay on the ground outside his cabin, curled into a ball. I wish it would all... stop... spinning.