The sunlight filtered through the silk curtains, following the breeze like an afterthought.

In the corner, the fountain gurgled and spurted out a stream of water. A constant rush of a tiny cataract. The liquid threw indistinct blobs on the wall, like inside an aquarium, illuminated by the light.

Percy blinked tiredly, rubbing the gunk out of his eyes. For a moment, he laid there silently, legs tangled in his blankets, hair splayed over his forehead. Mutely, he noted that he needed a haircut.

Someone laughed outside, distant and familiar, followed by what sounded like a small explosion. Also distant. Also familiar.

The clock beside him winked seven o'clock at him.

He groaned and shifted, catching his bearings as he stared blankly around the room. A part of him urged him to get up, to dress, and then to run toward the dining pavilion. A part of him screamed that he was late to something.

But when Percy tried to remember just exactly what, he drew up empty. Feeling uneasy at the less-than-welcomed thoughts (so similar to his days roaming around after training with Lupa), he slid out of bed, bare feet touching the bare floor. A wave of homesickness crashed onto him, like a delayed reaction of nostalgia, and Percy frowned.

Deciding not to dwell on the situation that caused him brain-pain so early in the morning, he slowly tugged a random shirt on (after, of course, the customary sniff to make sure it didn't smell like someone died in it) and shuffled out of his cabin, shielding his eyes from the brightness.

He took a while to take in the scene, head turning languidly to the left, then the right, imprinting the panorama into his mind. Still, something nagged at him.

"Hey."

Percy startled, and then turned to face the familiar countenance of his girlfriend. Annabeth smiled at him, blonde curls alight, gray eyes reflecting the sun. Three books were tucked under her arm, large tomes that Percy would've never touched in his lifetime if he could help it.

"Got your sleep?"

"Yeah," Percy said hesitantly, trying to smush the feeling of intense joy away. He was always happy when he saw Annabeth, but this was bordering on clingy. Like he had spent a year away from her rather than . . .

"Good. You better not go on a quest so soon again. I had to copy down an extra copy of notes, so you better read through them thoroughly, seaweed brain."

"Quest?"

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. For Hecate."

When Percy did not respond, she rolled her eyes in exasperation like, honestly, how do I deal with him? "She called you to retrieve something for her."

As if that had triggered something, a wave of memories hit him like a sluggish river. Moments of sleeping with his head propped on his backpack. Traveling across New York and into parts of Minnesota, trying to catch up to rumors and gossip.

"Oh. Yeah. I think I'm going to smell like polecat fart for the rest of my life."

Annabeth laughed, and gently pushed him to the mess hall. Percy dazedly walked forward. Again, he felt conflicted, but as soon as he posed the dozens of questions in his head, a soothing sensation fell upon him, and he found himself relaxing.

Right. Back from a quest of chasing polecats and trying to avoid being turned into one. And now I'm back, alive. Which means food time.

It was late enough that Camp Half-Blood was already streaming with activities. He watched as someone fell off the Rock Climbing wall, and then shot back up and attempted it again. Pegasuses (Pegasi?) flew around leisurely, some with demigods on their backs.

He sat down and focused on his plate. Before the usual pancakes could cross his mind, toast and orange marmalade appeared, with a side of what seemed like a pie. His cup filled up with a pumpkin color, thick and fresh. Percy squinted in confusion.

Like all the other times he was puzzled, he turned to Annabeth, who sat next to him at the Poseidon table, curls falling into her face as she studiously read her book. Knowing that it would take a while to capture her attention when she was submerged in her architecture books, Percy shrugged and took a sip of whatever was in his cup.

Surprisingly, it tasted alright. Not as good as blue coke, but still acceptable. It registered on his tongue quite well, like he had been acquainted with it before. Which was strange because Percy prided himself on remembering the different kinds of foods he ate, and he was sure he'd remember drinking something like that.

Munching on the pie-thing, Percy curiously peeked over Annabeth's shoulder.

On the page, a picture of a building rose up. It didn't look particularly welcoming to Percy, all gaps and bricks (Jason would love it. Grover would probably swamp it with plants), but there was something about it that struck a chord inside him. Like the weird drink. And the toast. And the pastry that had appeared on his plate that he had never consumed before.

"We should go there," Percy blurted loudly, the words pushing their way out of his mouth like they had a mind of its own.

Annabeth flinched, and then glanced up at him, eyebrows scrunching in that cute way of hers. Apparently Percy being interested in her architect ideals was enough to shock her out of the world she entered whenever she was reading. "What?"

He gestured at the picture. "There. Seems cool."

"Scotland?" her tone was bewildered, and she glanced at Percy strangely, like he had just offered to skim through the book for her. (Please. If that day came, it'd prolly be when he'd be at swordpoint and brinking on dying.)

He nodded vigorously. "Yeah. Someday."

What is wrong with me?

Annabeth squinted at him as he conjured up another of the pie-things he had and shoved it into his mouth.

"Did you suddenly become invested in European cultures on your quest or something?"

Percy shrugged. "I dunno. Why?"

"First, that's a treacle tart." she gestured at the pie-thing. "Second, that's Scotland." she pointed at the picture. "Third." once more, Annabeth narrowed her eyes, analytical. "Did your accent change?"

"What?" Percy shook his head, befuddled. "I just . . . I thought it'd be nice. Once everything's over. We could settle down. Travel. I know you're kinda obsessed with . . . " now it was his turn to signal the picture in her book.

Annabeth's eyes softened, and she smiled. Her hand found its way to his, and Percy immediately twined them together.

"Sure, Percy."

About 3175 miles away, a boy with a lightning bolt scar and eyes as green as the Avada Kedavra spell stared across his dorm, a pensive scowl on his face as he stared at the empty space between his and Ron's beds.

In his left hand, he clenched a newspaper detailing the capture of Voldemort and the innocence of Sirius Black. In his right hand, held carefully between a forefinger and a thumb, was a note from his godfather, an invitation to spend the summer with him.

He was surrounded by friends.

Imminent danger and the Dursleys seemed a washed-out nightmare.

But he swore something was missing.

GUYS. I'M DONE. I DON'T THINK I'M PROCESSING IT RIGHT NOW BUT AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH OH MY GOSH THIS STORY OH MY GOSH. THIS IS THE FIRST STORY. WOAH. MY GOSH. WOAHHH! I WANT TO SAY THANK YOU FOR ALL DA READERS WHO HAD TO SUFFER THROUGH THIS AND WOW WOW WOW WOW AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

I've always imagined that I would write a whole entire speech at the end detailing my life . . . but yeah, I'm drawing up a blank. BUT I HAVE A SERIES OF QUESTIONS THAT I'M DYING OVER SO HERE, SHARE THE DYING-NESS WITH ME.

1. If Percy had been trained by Gaea and never met the "seven" (not with him in it, of course. Maybe Nico? Or Bianca? I dunno) until the Heroes of Olympus series, what would've happened? And how would he have helped if he turned to the gods' side?

2. If Percy accepted immortality, how would he have affected the Heroes of Olympus series?

Okay, so maybe just two questions.

AND WOW I'M GONNA REGRET THIS LATER FOR NOT ASKING A THOUSAND MORE QUESTIONS AND A THOUSAND MORE DRAMATIC CRAP, BUT I GUESS RIGHT NOW IT'S A BYE!? Maybe I'll edit this story later on. Probably not. Gosh, this story took way to long to finish. :D Peace and all that,

THE END.

(Well, to this part of the story. Go and imagine whatever you want to imagine will happen next. Or write fanfiction of fanfiction. Or flame this however much you'd like. Print it out and burn it if it'd make you feel better. BUT I'M DONE. SHOULD I BE SOBBING?)