I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians or The Heroes of Olympus. They belong to Rick Riordan.

I know I should probably be working on the multi-chapter story, but sometimes it's just nice to let the plot bunny out for a walk. Many thanks to Neverstop13 for reading this over!

He felt oddly detached for someone who should have been going through an emotional overload. Or maybe that was the way it was supposed to be.

Percy Jackson was exhausted. After the victory (if it could even be called that) against Gaea in Greece, the days had blurred by. The Argo II having crashed and burned due to the hospitality of the Giants, the half-bloods got escorted back to camp by some of the helpful gods. He vaguely remembered his father being there. Athena, too, no longer in an unhinged mental state.

The Romans and Greeks had ended up fighting after all. Reyna and Nico, bearing the Athena Parthenos, had stopped them, but there were still casualties.

Everyone converged on Camp Half-Blood. The wounded were being treated, and the dead…they were being prepared for the funeral. Making the shrouds, crying, grieving…it was all part of a process, a process that he refused to take part in.

Percy stayed away from most people. He couldn't deter them from coming to see him, but he wouldn't voluntarily approach and speak to them either.

Unless the person happened to be Annabeth. She was the only one.

"They're just worried about you," she said, sitting next to him by the lake. "You shouldn't push them away."

"I'm not pushing them away," he mumbled, looking down at his reflection.

"Maybe you don't do it intentionally, but you've been distant. It makes people nervous around you," the daughter of Athena countered. Percy didn't really have an argument for that.

He plunged his hand into the lake and pulled it out, letting the cool water slip through his fingers. "You're the only one I need to talk to."

Annabeth graced him with a hint of a smile. "We'll get through this together."

"Promise?" he asked, feeling like a small child.

"I promise," she affirmed, standing and offering him a hand.

Jason came to check on him while he ate breakfast. "Hey, how are you doing?"

Percy shrugged, continuing to push around his Froot Loops inside the cereal bowl. "I'm fine."

The son of Jupiter raised an eyebrow doubtfully. "You sure about that?" Annabeth strode in behind him and shot Percy an encouraging grin, and he hesitated.

"No," he answered honestly, "but I will be." Jason gave him a funny look but nodded. He walked away without saying another word, leaving Percy alone with his thoughts and his multicolored cereal.

"You're a really bad liar," Wise Girl teased.

"Am not!" Percy protested, a laugh almost building in his throat. But it quickly faded, and Annabeth looked kind of disappointed.

Piper approached him as he watched some of the nymphs weave the burial shrouds. "Jason already talked to me," he blurted out.

The girl studied him with tired eyes. "Well, that's Jason, and I'm me. Can't a friend personally ask another friend if he's all right?"

Percy lifted a shoulder slightly. "I think it could get redundant."

"Are you calling friendship redundant?"

He turned his eyes in her general direction, resisting a childish urge to roll his eyes or stick his tongue out. "That's not what I meant. Anyway, what about you? I'm not the only one who's suffered from this war."

She looked taken aback. "I know, but…" The daughter of Aphrodite bit her lower lip and shook her head. "You've been through a lot, even more so than the rest of us."

Percy let out a deep breath but did not respond. He couldn't think about his emotions or recent events, or he'd go insane. It was better to stay in this…apathetic state.

Piper glanced at him mournfully, noting his silence. "The shrouds are almost done. They'll be lit tonight." She jogged away, trying to hide the tears that he could plainly see. He thought he felt a twinge of grief.

Percy sat alone in his cabin. He could hear the low chatter and the quiet sniffles of the campers outside. He didn't join them.

Annabeth wandered in and leaned on the doorway. "You need to go, Percy."

He shook his head. He couldn't handle it. Burning the shrouds would make death feel final.

As if she had read his mind, she whispered, "It'll bring closure. At least, I hope it will." Her grim expression wavered, and she gave him a pleading look. "Please, Seaweed Brain? Do it for me?"

The son of Poseidon almost choked on his words, but he managed to stutter, "Will you come with me?"

His girlfriend smiled at him sadly. "You know the answer to that. I'll be there."

Trying to calm his racing heart, he nodded and trudged out into the crowd.

He made it to the funeral site among the stream of people. He had lost Annabeth along the way, but Percy arrived there as he had said he would.

Chiron clopped up to him with a torch in his hand. The old teacher appeared more tired than he had ever seen him. "Perseus, you should light it. You know which one." He passed the torch to the quiet demigod.

Percy took a few tentative steps toward the shroud, dread spreading through his entire body. The little void in his chest expanded until it became a chasm, his own personal Grand Canyon.

Everyone waited respectfully, holding his or her breath. Percy breathed out, "I love you," and held the torch to the gray shroud. The silver owl proudly stitched on the silk seemed to shimmer in the flames. He trod back as Chiron tapped his hoof and spoke up.

"Annabeth Chase was one of the bravest heroes of Olympus, the cleverest of them all..."