Not Aquaman

As a drop of my blood fell from my fist to the floor, all I could think about was the moment from just a few weeks before, when the tiniest bit of blood from my nosebleed hit the sacred grounds of Athens, awakening Gaia and almost bringing about the Earth-pocalypse - which would have ended all civilization and human life as we know it.

Fun times, huh?

Oh yeah, before I get into the details of how I ended up standing in some godforsaken back-alley with the unconscious body of a mugger lying at my feet, I should probably explain a few things.

My name is Percy Jackson. Up tilI was about 12, I assumed with childish naivety that I was just a normal kid. A majorly messed up kid, but still pretty normal. Ish. 

That was until my maths teacher turned into a horrifying bat-lady and attacked me on my trip to Washington. I managed to kill her with the help of a pen given to me by my history teacher (don't ask), but this set off a chain of events which led me to a lot of bloodthirsty monsters and several world-ending phenomena.

Here's a quick run-down of everything that's happened so far. I met my best friend and one true love; Annabeth, battled the god Ares, jumped off the gateway arch, returned Zeus's lightning bolt, rescued my other best friend from a cyclops wedding, retrieved the Golden Fleece, sailed the seas, defeated Kronos, saved the world, was offered immortality, blah blah blah. The usual.

For a while everything was calm; that is until the bitch dance-mom of a goddess Hera decided to kidnap me and steal my memories, stranding me in the middle of nowhere with no one except a murderous she-wolf to keep me company.

I guess I scraped by - made some new friends, but little did I know we had barely scratched the surface of the plans of Gaia, the literal Mother of Titans and Earth herself, who seemingly had it in for a little something I like to call my happiness.

Suffice to say, we were all thoroughly traumatised by that experience. But in the end, we won. We defeated Gaia and united the two camps. So I should've been starting to feel normal again right?

Wrong.

We were supposed to defeat Gaia in Athens. But my stupid nose just had to go and drip on sacred fucking ground.

I've replayed that moment over and over in my head ever since. If I could have prevented the awakening of Gaia, if I could have done something - anything differently, maybe a lot of people would still be alive today. 

I was angry, and hurt, and grieving. But I tried; gods-damnit I tried so hard to keep going. To pretend like everything was fine. But it wasn't. I wasn't.

Every time I flicked through a text book, or ate lunch in the school cafeteria, or kissed my girlfriend there was always something lurking in my thoughts. A dark, hungry ball of restless energy that clawed at my mind, begging to be let out. 

I shoved it down. I repressed it. Outta sight, outta mind ya know? I guess it's worked for a while, my ADHD brain found other stuff to focus on - schoolwork, the swim team, Annabeth. But even so, I found myself almost hoping for a monster to come crashing through the window during third period. 

It was a complete coincidence that I happened to walk past the exact same alley where a kid was getting beaten up on my way back from school, but looking back on it now it doesn't seem too crazy to think it could have been the work of some primordial deity, or maybe the Fates themselves.

"Hey!" I shouted, striding towards them, "Let him go man."

The aforesaid man looked at me in disgust. One of his hands was soaked in red, while the other was balled around the collar of the kid's shirt. The boy was young; 15 or 16 maybe, he was wearing a nondescript school shirt and grey jeans, and looked absolutely terrified. His eye was puffy and purple, he had a large cut above his nose and his bottom lip was split. Obviously the mugger had done a number on him. I clenched my fist.

While the more rationally-thinking, Annabeth-like part of my mind screamed at me to do the sane thing and back off and call the mortal police, the other 97% of my brain - the part wired for battle, the part that for some reason just couldn't shake off the seething rage that bubbled up whenever there was an innocent person being hurt - that part of my brain was itching for a fight.

The guy dropped his hand from the boy's shirt, sending him sliding down against the wall.

"Mind your own  business kid, move along." 

He turned towards me, so I could see his face more clearly. It wasn't much to look at - a crooked nose and and a small triangle-shaped tattoo on his left cheek. He had yellowing teeth and greasy hair that hung rattily below his ears. He reminded me of Gabe.

Even though the late Mr Ugliano had been a stone statue for a good few years by that point, just the thought of him still made me want to rip the ground in two and send this man to the depths of Tartarus.

When he looked back to see me slowly approaching, his eyes flashed with annoyance. He gave the boy one last kick before advancing on me. He fished into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small object, which he flicked open to reveal a small knife.

Oh no, I thought, I'm in so much trouble.

(For those of you who didn't quite catch it, that was an example of sarcasm - a language in which I am fluent.)

"Last chance. Fuck off before you do something you regret." 

(Insert eye roll here.)

 I didn't stop moving towards him.

"Fuck's sake." he muttered.

As soon as I was within an arm's length of him, he dived at me, wielding his weapon wildly. It felt like I had all the time in the world to block. I dodged the knife easily, then spun around the guy's back and kicked. Hard.  He went flying, landing sprawled across the floor. I turned around to make sure the kid was okay, but he'd probably long since run away. 

"Big mistake, fucker." 

There was a sharp pain in my side; I whirled around and landed a punch to the man's face. When I looked down to see the piece of metal lodged in my skin, I almost laughed. It was scary how used I was to being stabbed.

"A mistake huh?" I grabbed him by the jacket cuffs and threw him against the wall.

Unfortunately, he was quicker than I gave him credit for, as he managed to elbow me in the ribs before twisting out of his jacket and ducking under my arms, pinning them behind my back. My mind flashed back to the countless hours I spent training with Luke back when I was a baby demigod. He drilled counter-attacks into my head so much that at the time it felt like I could do them in my sleep.

Apparently something stuck. I pressed my legs against the wall and pushed. The world spun. When I landed on my feet, my opponent was curled up in a ball, groaning. I punched him once in the face. Twice. Okay, maybe it was three times. In any case, he stopped groaning. 

I stood over him, heart hammering. My adrenaline was up - like my body was expecting more of a fight. It took a second to realize exactly what I'd done. 

Shit, shit, shit.

I wasn't in the demigod world. I wasn't battling a hellhound or evil god. I was just some guy who definitely didn't have permission to be beating up mortal muggers. Someone who took justice into their own hands... Outside the jurisdiction of the police... 

Now, even if demigods don't use technology all that much for fear of being ripped into pieces by monsters - which does mean we aren't always caught up on the latest news; I didn't live under a rock.

I'd seen the videos of the crime-fighting, back-flipping, spandex-wearing vigilantes. I mean, how could you not? I just knew I wasn't one of them.

Now, I know what you're going to say, ' Oh but Percy, you're basically a superhero! You fight evil dickheads all the time! You'd outshine Captain America any day!' And while I'm obviously flattered, there are two things to consider:

One; being a hero in the 'demigod' sense is very different from being a hero in the 'super' sense. For starters, demigod 'heroes' can be extremely morally questionable, and often we don't sustain that superhero staple 'no-killing' rule .

And second, what I had just done definitely didn't merit the title of superhero. I just decided to use my fists instead of my head when dealing with some random criminal.

At that point I decided to move now, question my life choices later. With a wince, I pulled the crude knife out of my lower abdomen and let it fall to the ground. (Don't come for me survival nerds - I know that's not what you're supposed to do with a knife but screw you, I don't care. My stab wound my choice.) It landed with a light clatter next to the unconscious mugger. I slowly backed out of the alley and into the crowds of people clogging the streets who payed little notice to me as I slipped seamlessly into their midst. 

As my feet began to carry me automatically in the direction of my apartment, I realized I was shaking. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or the rage, or the fear of being arrested or something, but my whole body was trembling. Actually that was probably due to blood loss. You know, from the stab wound and all that. I needed to find a source of water, pronto. I needed-

Lee, Castor, Michael.

No, no, no, please - not now.

I took a deep breath. Another. And another.

Bianca. Zoë. Ethan.

My apartment wasn't so far away now, just a few more blocks. I tried to make out the street names as I rushed past, numbers on houses, anything to stop me from collapsing in the middle of the road. I could feel my lungs closing in on themselves. I reached the door to our building, shoving the key in the lock and tripping over the door. One flight of stairs. Two. Three.

Silena. Beckendorf.

My eyes and throat were burning by the time I eventually reached the door to the apartment. It was a familiar sensation by this point - but that didn't make it feel any better. I pulled out a different key, praying to the gods that I didn't drop it, fumbled once, twice, before finally pushing it into the keyhole. I stumbled through the door.

Luke. Leo. Octavion. Bob.

Through blurry eyes I could see Annabeth standing in my kitchen making coffee. She immediately turned towards me and smiled. Her smile fell as soon as she saw the state of me.

"Percy? Percy! Oh shit, Sally!"

I couldn't breathe. It was like someone was standing on my chest, crushing my lungs. I vaguely felt the tug of someone pulling towards them, but by then my vision was blacking out and I was full-on hyperventilating.

Leo. Bianca. Lee. Zoë. Castor. Michael. Octavian. Bob. Ethan. Beckendorf. Silena. Leo. Bianca. Lee. Zoë. Castor. Michael. Octavian. Bob. Ethan. Beckendorf. Silena. Leo. Bianca. Lee. Zoë. Castor. Michael. Octavian. Bob. Ethan. Beckendorf. Silena. 

So. Many. More. 

All. Gone. 

Because. Of. You.

I was back on the streets of New York in the midst of the battle against the Titans and rogue demigods. I saw so many of my allies, my friends fall to the blade of an enemy.

I was back in the desert when Bianca was crushed. I felt the strike of guilt and grief as I broke the news to a young Nico. I felt his shock and betrayal.

I was back in Tartarus. I drove through monsters without a care. I felt nothing as I killed. I choked Misery. I felt the the poison running through my veins. I craved more.

I felt Annabeth's fear. Fear of me. My mom-

My mom wasn't there. Why is she here in Tartarus?

"Percy... Just breathe... Feel the carpet Percy... Where are you right now?"

Carpet. My fingers closed around swathes of soft material. There wasn't carpet in Tartarus. I wasn't in Tartarus. Or the desert. Or the battlefield. I was at home. My home.

I was safe.

Slowly, slowly, reality started leaking back in. A cup of water was brought gently to my lips and I downed it messily, allowing the cool sensation to run down my throat. It was then held to my abdomen and I felt the pain subside as my skin pulled itself together.

I opened my eyes. I was sat down against the wall of the kitchen floor, jacket stripped off and bag discarded on the couch. My mom and Annabeth were crouched above me, looking at me with anxiousness and worry. 

Of course, I guess that the development of some form of PTSD was inevitable after all the shit we'd been through. But this particular brand of manifestation cut deep. Every one of these panic attacks seemed to bring all the anger and grief and pain I'd been keeping at a simmer under the surface to a raging boil that threatened to tip over the brim.

"Percy..." Annabeth wrapped her arms around me (which was quite the feat seeing as we were both sitting/kneeling on the floor). I buried my head in her shoulder, melting into the lush softness of her hair. Though I tried, I couldn't help a sniffle escaping into her shoulder. 

"I'm okay Wise Girl," I managed to croak out, "I'm okay."

"Perc?" I lifted my head up off of Annabeth and faced my mom, who was pointing towards my waist, where, though the actual wound had faded into a fleshy pink mark, a wine-red stain the size of a paper plate was slowly ruining my favourite shirt,

Oh yeah. I'd forgotten about that.

Wise Girl's steely grey eyes flashed with worry and anger; though I knew it wasn't directed at me. She furrowed her eyebrows in a way that made her look like a really angry owl.

"Explain. Now."